


10 Cups of Coffee and You're Still Not Here

by nylaa11



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Emo Zuko (Avatar), Eventual Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Lesbian Azula (Avatar), M/M, Minor Aang/Katara, Mutual Pining, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, just when you think its going well...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nylaa11/pseuds/nylaa11
Summary: All bass players are gay.ORModern AU where Zuko works at his Uncle’s Tea Shop and the gaang is in a band together. Zuko ends up at their show one night and can’t seem to get the hot bass player with the blue eyes out of his head. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Yue (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 79





	1. a new kind of tension

**Author's Note:**

> plans to update weekly :-)

Zuko, chin in his hands and back slouched, stares blankly out into the nearly empty tea shop. It’s 3 PM on a Thursday. Not much going on at a time like this. The shop was dead, as Zuko silently wished he were.

“Nephew,” A voice sighs from the kitchen. “If you are going to slouch like that how will anyone know that we serve tea here with dignity?”

Zuko glances up at his Uncle Iroh for just a second before returning his gaze to the empty shop, face just as blank as before, “I don’t know Uncle, maybe they won’t and then we’ll never get another customer and I never have to step foot in this God forsaken shop again.”

Iroh chuckles and shakes his head at his nephew’s snarky comments, “Always such a joy to have you here, nephew.”

It annoyed Zuko that Iroh was always so chipper even in the slowest of shifts. With a huff of his breath, he looks around out of boredom, hoping to find something interesting to stare at as he slips into casual day dreaming. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing special about this shop. Light green tables, each with a white colored flower, a lotus, painted on them. Hand painted by him and his Uncle when Zuko was just sprouting into his teen years. The sign at the front read, “Open! Please let yourself in!” right under that, the name of the shop in an elegant cursive, “The Jasmine Dragon.”

Zuko had once asked why the shop was named the Jasmine Dragon. Something about Jasmine being Uncle’s favorite tea and Dragon being a nickname he garnered in the Navy. The details are a little fuzzy. They would have been more clear if the story wasn’t told in such a long winded way that Zuko nearly fell asleep on multiple occasions throughout its telling.

Just then the wind chimes on the front door begin to sound, jostling him out of his thoughts, two customers stroll in, a stack of papers in each of their arms.

“Ahh,” his uncle suddenly appears from the kitchen once again “See, customers! Smile now, Zuko. Tell them the special today is Ginger.” With that he disappears behind the flower embroidered curtain from which he entered.

The two customers approach the counter.

“Hi.” Zuko says plainly. “Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, special’s… uhh…” Shit. What was it again? He truly was not paying attention, “Um, Oolong?”

Iroh sighs from the kitchen at Zuko’s knack for seemingly never listening to what he says.

Zuko closes his eyes in annoyance for just a second before continuing in a strained voice, “Anyway, what did you guys want?”

“Uhh…” The taller one croaks. “We were actually just looking to ask if we could put some of these band posters on your bulletin board? Our friend has got a show comin up and we’re helping him out to spread the word.”

Zuko takes one look at the poster, with its fiery background and big letters, and decides that this must be a poster for a rock band. The two customers, dressed head to toe in black clothes and silver chains, seem like the perfect candidates for a couple of groupies too, furthering his theory. To be fair, the band was probably local and from what he had heard this city had a great rock scene; not that he had ever been. Rock shows aren’t usually something you attend alone after all.

Uncle once again pokes his head from the kitchen having overheard their short conversation and smiles generously, “Why, of course! We always allow for young ones to use the board, go right ahead! Cup of tea before you two go?”

The two customers nod their heads and after pinning up a poster, order two cups of Oolong tea. Iroh charges them at the special’s price with no hesitation, only giving a slight look at Zuko when he rings them up. Zuko rolls his eyes, cringing at his own mistake and sits back in his chair by the cash register once more. While Iroh chats up the two new customers, Zuko finds himself looking at the posters the two people brought in again. In big bold letters he reads: **The Elements: Tonight at 10 PM**. Huh, and not too far away either. At some music joint downtown. He’s passed by it tons of times. The Boiling Rock it was called.

The shorter of the two customers, and the one sitting at the bar closest to Zuko, notices where his gaze has ended up.

“You should come if you’re interested. They’re good, if you’re uhh into punk rock.” The guy looks almost nervous at Zuko’s harsh demeanor. How could a guy like this survive a mosh pit, Zuko thinks? He was small, skinny and frankly looked like a gust of wind on a good day could take him down. The thought almost makes him laugh out loud, but Zuko just nods and raises his eyebrows in feigned amusement as a response. Again, rock shows: not something people really do alone.

After a bit more chit chat the two customers set out and Iroh is once again left to watch Zuko stare at nothing, lost in his own frivolous thoughts.

“Nephew,” he starts cautiously. “You know, I’ve heard you listen to rock music from your room…”

Before he can even get one more word out, Zuko has begun to groan.

“… and it seems like this band might be uhh, what do the kids say now? Pretty Lit?”

The groan gets louder and Zuko’s forehead is now in his hands. He hates when his uncle tries to pick up the lingo that the college students bring into the shop.

Iroh doesn’t miss a beat though, even at Zuko’s obvious distaste for his words, “You should go, Zuko.”

“No.” Zuko hopes the conviction in his voice and the simplicity of his answer will convince his uncle he’s serious.

Iroh looks at him sympathetically, “You know, Zuko, one that reckons accounts all the day, passes not a single happy moment.”

Zuko doesn’t look up from his hands. Great one of his uncle’s famous proverbs.

“Look, Uncle, I wouldn’t even know anyone there, why would I want to go spend a night by myself at the concert of a local, probably mediocre, band when I could do things that _actually_ need to get done, like my Physics homework?” The answer comes out in a huff, but he’s not done convincing his uncle quite yet.

“Plus,” he adds. “The show is tonight, and I work tonight, so I couldn’t go even if I wanted to.” There. Zuko crosses his arms and looks up at his Uncle with a hint of pride in his face. That should do it.

But Iroh is unphased. A sly smile slides over his face that puzzles Zuko briefly. “Oh, you don’t remember? You have the night off.”

Zuko narrows his eyes at his uncle. “No. I don’t.”

“Why, yes you do.” His uncle nearly sings the words.

“Uncle…” Zuko begins, warily.

“No, no, really! I’ve had it scheduled for weeks now! It was my little surprise to you! I guess I just simply forgot to tell you, my mistake, nephew. Excuse my aging brain. But yes, you may choose what to do with your free time however know this: I will be here at the shop to close up so you don’t have to.”

With that his uncle disappears behind the flowered curtain and like Iroh had somehow planned it perfectly, the clock strikes 5 PM. Time for Zuko to reluctantly begin his evening off. Not that he had a choice really.

* * *

On his walk home, Zuko contemplates the choice ahead of him. Of course he wasn’t going to the show… right? Then why, he wonders to himself, did he bring along the crumpled poster pulled from the tea shop’s bulletin board when he thought his uncle wasn’t looking on his way out?

He takes the poster out of his pocket and reads it one more time. Going over each printed letter with tedious disdain.

The Elements. Cool band name, at least. And the customer from earlier said it was a punk show, which _was_ his favorite music genre. And he _had_ always wanted to check out the local music scene, but never really had a reason to go…

“Erghh.” Becoming frustrated with is thoughts he crumples the paper in his hand and shoves it back in his front pocket. What a stupid idea. Come on, Zuko. A rock show?

He pulls out a key to unlock the door to his uncle’s house.

People get so sweaty at shows. Who wants a bunch of sweaty people crowding around them like heathens?

Zuko begins walking up the stairs.

And what about my physics homework? That’s got to get done sometime!

Zuko plops onto his bed and onto his stomach, face in his pillow. He hopes when he picks his head up his body will have willed him to make a decision.

Zuko takes a deep breath and groans loudly.

After a few minutes, Zuko finally looks up across his room at his own reflection. His hair is a bit disheveled from only seconds previously being underneath him. His eyes are a little tired looking from a long day at the shop. Well one of them. The other, a permanent squint from a scar that covers nearly half his face. He shakes his head of the thought and looks sternly at himself.

“Zuko,” he starts. Thank God no one’s here or this would be _utterly_ embarrassing, “Uncle’s right, when was the last time you did something, _anything_ , that was interesting? Just, for once, _for once_ , let’s stop being a loser and _do something_.”

The last words hang in the air of the quiet home. Staring at himself in the mirror for a few more seconds, he dares to turn to check the clock on the wall to his right. Almost 6 PM. Great. 3 more hours to overthink this.

Reluctantly, he begins choosing what to wear.

* * *

Zuko starts walking to The Boiling Rock at 9 PM sharp. He was going to wait until 9:30 PM, but then his thoughts began to spiral. What about getting there late and not having a place to stand? At least if he was early he could stand in the back on his phone and _pretend_ he was doing something as opposed to being late and not knowing what to do and, and, and…

Zuko shoves his hands in his pockets. Surely, he had convinced himself, there was an endless list of reasons to be worried and so he decided to leave early. Simple.

At least the night was cool, he was thankful for that. Zuko was one of those people who was naturally warm, odd considering his small frame. It just seemed like when times got cold people gravitated towards him, like he was some sort of human furnace. The thought brings him back to his high school days when the girls at school used to use it as an excuse to get closer to him. “Oh! Zuko I’m so cold, can you warm my hands up?” And he would sigh and reluctantly grab their hands between his for a bit, refusing to make eye contact until all their hands were satisfyingly warm again.

According to his uncle, and well most everyone else, Zuko was a looker. Girls constantly showed up at the shop with giggles and blushing cheeks, begging for the attention of his golden eyes, precise smile, and geometric bone structure. But Zuko never gave them the time of day. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he couldn’t. He had, you know, other interests. Boy interests. Interests _in_ boys. His Uncle was cool with it. Maybe even a little too cool. He was always trying to gauge Zuko’s type by introducing him to boys who had walked into the shop. Every time Zuko would blush hard and end up yelling at him in the aftermath to stay out of his personal life. Iroh always found it impossibly funny to get Zuko flustered like that.

Before long Zuko finds himself at The Boiling Rock standing under a buzzing neon sign in the shape of a volcano that blinks, simulating an explosion from its mouth.

Cool.

Zuko checks his watch, it is the not at all way too planned out time of 9:45.

At the door he gives his ID to the bouncer who verifies his age.

“You know, you’re pretty young looking for a 21 year old.”

Zuko had maintained a pretty young face all his life.

“It’s not fake.” He counters. He looks beyond the bouncer to the inside of the venue a little nervously. He realizes the words come out with a bite he hadn’t anticipated. He just wants to get inside to situate himself, not talk to some friendly bouncer.

“Sheesh, yeah, just making conversation, get right on in, buddy.” 

Zuko pushes past the man and see’s people already lined up around the stage. It’s not too full just yet, but he hopes to get a space at least a little close to the front. He wasn’t exactly the tallest guy around and unless he made it a point to be close, he surely wouldn’t get a good look at the band. He finds a spot next to two girls near the front and sets up shop.

The girls begin to whisper to each other looking in Zuko’s direction, but he chooses not to pay it any mind. Instead, he scrolls through twitter refreshing the same memes he’s seen at least 3 times that day.

To his left there’s bit of movement off stage that catches Zuko’s attention from his constant refreshing. From where Zuko is standing he can see exactly where it’s coming from, a guy about Zuko’s age in a blue crop top opening up his instrument case.

The boy, probably about 6’1, has shaved sideburns and a top knot. His skin is a tanned olive tone and he’s got an athletic build, like he works out pretty regularly. Zuko’s phone screen goes black from how long he’s been watching this guy and the girls next to him take notice.

“He’s cute, right?” One of them nudges Zuko in the arm, startling him out of his head. “He’s the bass player” The other girl giggles and adds, “Everyone thinks he’s hot, don’t worry.”

Zuko lets out a politely awkward laugh. Well, at least he wasn’t alone.

“I heard,” One of the girls chirps, “that he has a thing with the lead guitarist.”

Zuko looks up at the stage to see who they’re talking about. Lo and behold there stands a short haired brunette girl with a half up-half down ponytail setting up her guitar. Fuck.

“Have you guys seen this band before?” Zuko might as well squeeze as much information out of these people as he can about the band before the show starts.

The girls look at each other and instantly start laughing again. Zuko is confused. He didn’t say anything funny.

“Yeah, dude? They’re the hottest thing in the city right now!”

The other girl playfully touches Zuko’s shoulder, “We think they’re gonna make it big one day, so we come to all their local shows.”

Zuko nods his head, looking out at the stage where more band members have set up their instruments.

The girls begin to squeal and the one immediately to his left grabs his arm in excitement, “The show’s about to start!”

“How do you kn-“

All of a sudden the house lights go dark and Zuko is left once again to wonder if he’s made the right choice. He hates people touching him in general and he barely met this girl, so what gave her the right to grab him like that? But before that thought could finish itself a single spotlight lights up the stage. In the middle of it is a guy with long hair held back with a headband, an unlit cigarette hanging lazily atop his bottom lip. He smiles briefly before introducing himself, “Good evening campers, name’s Jet and we’re The Elements. We’ll be singing a few songs if that’s alright with you.”

The crowd cheers. They’re obviously a fan favorite.

“Sweet, let’s not waste any time then.”

The first sound Zuko hears is a lonely guitar riff. It’s fast and intricate, the way lead ins should always be. Then the rest of the band comes in, along with Jet who’s half screaming lyrics into his microphone.

_Memories you wished to be a part of_

_Sitting in your parked car_

_I hate the way you made me think I was falling in love with you._

Zuko is immediately lost in the music and the beat of the drums. The lyrics are surprisingly heart wrenching in the best way. He finds himself nodding his head to the music, wishing he knew the words like the girls next to him. They’re smiling now, singing to each other like their lives depended on it. He too finds himself smiling. He had never been to a concert, but if this is what they’re all like. He could get used to this.

Through the colorful light display, his eyes wander to the boy in the blue cropped t-shirt once again. His slender hands picking at each string in the bass with unquestionable poise. The spotlight isn’t on him, but in Zuko’s eyes it very well could be. He was mouthing the words to himself, rocking back and forth with every beat. Stealing the stage with smiles and the occasional dance move. Then Zuko has to turn his face back to the lead singer because he almost swears the boy sneaks a glance at him, causing Zuko’s cheeks to burn despite the insane amount of smoke present in the room right then.

_You should be in love with me too._

_I hate the way you made me think I was falling in love with you._

After loving the first song, Zuko continues to enjoy every other one on the set. There’s a harder song with a catchy chorus that the crowd screams along to, a love ballad that Zuko has now decided will play at his wedding, and an experimental jazz sounding song that renders him quite literally speechless. When the band finishes, the crowd roars. There’s only about 60 people in the venue max, but you could’ve sworn there was more judging by the astronomical amount of noise sounding from it. Zuko finds himself joining in on the screaming and clapping until the band has left the stage.

He’s sweating, his heart is still beating fast from the amount of movement he was doing during the set. He was… happy? Happy to be there. Huh, guess he hadn’t felt that in a while.

Meanwhile, people start to file out of the venue. Some stay behind to order drinks, and Zuko contemplates just following the crowd and being on his merry way, but a crazy idea pops into his head. On a night like this, a night where actual _good_ things were happening to him, he thinks he might take his chances at something a little out of his comfort zone.

Maybe it’s the serotonin flowing through his brain, but he is certain that now is the only time in his life he’ll feel stupidly aloof enough to tell the hot bass player of a band that he liked his set.

So Zuko sets off. The bass player is packing his stuff in the same place just off stage as before and drinking out of a metal water bottle. He doesn’t seem to be particularly occupied at the moment. This is perfect. Just don’t look stupid. One foot in front of the other, that’s it. Just introduce yourself, Hey, Zuko here! Oh God no that’s _terrible_. What if I-

“Hey!” A hand grabs Zuko’s shoulder and turns him from where he was headed.

Zuko is taken aback only to be found staring at one of the girls who stood next to him during the show.

“Look, you seem nice, and my friend over there thinks you’re cute. She was wondering if she could like, get your snapchat or something?”

Zuko stares at her, expressionless. He literally cannot do this right now.

“I uhh, I have a person.”

“What?”

Shit. A person? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“A boyfriend. Sorry, I really gotta go.”

“Oh! Fuck, sorry uhh, have a good one?”

But Zuko is already turned around searching the crowd for the boy in the blue shirt. Fuck. Where was he? By the time Zuko had finished talking to the girl the bass player had already packed up and left. Frantically, Zuko searches for the band exit. Maybe a back door for band members to easily move their instruments?

Aha! There stage right, he see’s the girl who does back up vocals and the lead singer of the band walk through a door to the outside. That’s gotta be it.

Before Zuko can weigh out how good or bad this plan might be, his feet have sent him on a path towards the door. Pushing past people on his way out, he reaches the doorway and pulls. Once again, he is met with the cool crisp air of the night time. It feels nice on his now damp skin. However, he finds himself in an empty alley. Alone.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. Too late. They probably hopped in their van and headed off to who knows where to do who knows what and he would never get to tell the bass player good job. Maybe it was for the best. Once Zuko had confronted the guy, what would he have said? Hey, nice biceps dude! They were all I could focus on during your set, also did I mention I’m single? Zuko shakes his head and almost laughs out loud. Ha! Yeah. Like he could pull that off.

Defeated, Zuko starts to walk out towards the street, but without warning the sound of a bottle smashing behind him catches his attention. It’s coming from just around the corner. Voices? Yeah, voices too.

Against his better judgement, Zuko silently makes his way over to the corner out of curiosity.

To his surprise, he finds himself looking at the two members of The Elements he had seen walking out just minutes before. The lead singer and his back-up vocalist. They’re standing across from each other in what seems to be a screaming match.

“God, Katara. I just don’t see why you’re so upset?” It’s the lead singer. Furious.

“Are you kidding, Jet? You’ve shown up late to our gigs WAY too many times already! Do you even care about this band?”

“Why are you so far up my ass? You’re not my mom, Katara, although you seem to want to act like it all the time.” Jet, guess that’s his name, spits out the words in rage. He takes a moment to rub his temple in visual frustration.

What the fuck is going on here, Zuko thinks. They looked so lively on stage, so… together? This cannot be the same band members he saw only moments before blow him away.

As Zuko continues to watch Jet, he can quite literally see a spark of inspiration fly across his face. Immediately he calms himself and stands in mock poise. Whatever he was about to say next, Zuko decides, was extremely calculated.

Jet begins pacing the alley and stroking his chin. It’s all a part of his bit. “Shit, Katara. You know, if I didn’t know you any better I’d think you were still in love with me.” He pauses to look at her dead on. “How would Aang feel about that, huh babe?” He says the last words calmly, annunciating each syllable with ease, smiling all the while.

This must have struck a nerve with the Katara girl, because when she turns to look up at Jet, Zuko can tell she’s absolutely boiling, the braids framing her face practically shaking with her rage.

“Ugh, you _insular asshole_!” She spits the words like daggers meant to pierce Jet with every letter. “You _know_ I never loved you, Jet. Although you’d think by the way you bring it up so much that you wished I did. Well get over it! Aang and I are happy together, and he’s what you never were, a decent human being.” Katara is breathing heavily now, but Zuko can tell that she is facing Jet with every ounce of certainty in herself that she can muster. Zuko must admit, she looks pretty damn terrifying from this side of the alley.

Jet looks down, breathing in her words one by one. The carefree demeanor he had built up now assuredly broken. Zuko surveys the scene carefully, not sure what to do. By the looks of Jet, this wasn’t going to be pretty.

In all his pent up frustration, Jet moves to bend down and pick up the half broken glass bottle he must have previously dropped to the floor.

What the fuck does this guy think he’s doing? Is he gonna _throw that_? He’s gonna throw that at her- Fuck. Shit. _Wait_.

“HEY!”

Katara flinches preparing for the impact, but Jet drops the bottle startled by the sudden shout in his direction.

Zuko realizes what he’s just done. _Fuck._

“Who the fuck are you?” Jet’s now got all his anger pointed at Zuko.

The sudden attention doesn’t even matter, Zuko’s had enough of this asshole. “Does it matter? All I know is you were about to assault this innocent girl, so I guess I should be asking who the fuck do you think you are?”

Jet looks positively livid, even to the extent that he has seemingly forgotten about Katara now that Zuko has interrupted their moment.

“Look, fuck face, this is none of your business. Get lost before I kick your ass.”

Zuko laughs, rolling his eyes. “After watching you resort to throwing something at someone who’s obviously unarmed? Sounds like it would be a cheap fight on your end. Believe me, I’ve taken people way worse than the likes of some pretty boy rock star like you.” Zuko steps closer to him, looking him up and down, “Yeah, sorry buddy, but you kicking my ass is _not_ what I’m worried about in this situation.”

Katara who has been watching them both intensely this whole time decides to speak up, properly annoyed, “Not to interrupt your little slam poetry session, but I’m still over here, you know! You can stop referring to me in the third person now.” She turns to speak directly to Zuko, “Look, I appreciate the help from distracting this asshole from throwing that bottle at me, but I can assure you I’ve got this. Jet’s harmless, just throwing a tantrum is all.” She throws Jet a pointed look. “As for you,” she’s speaking to him now. “You’re out of the band. Permanently.”

Jet laughs, a low rumble in the dark corridor they’re surrounded by, “You can’t kick me out. I _made_ you guys. You’re nothing without me.”

Katara returns his laugh cruelly, “You didn’t make us, Jet. Aang did. All you’ve done is cause problems. We can find someone else to sing for us. Now get the fuck out of here… And don’t call me again.”

Jet looks at Zuko. They’re about the same build, but Jet’s definitely got a few inches on him. If he wanted to hurt him he probably could, but Zuko was never one to give up during a fight.

Jet just shakes his head and pushes Zuko out of the way to walk across the dark alley away from him and Katara.

Zuko huffs and is thinking about showing this jerk what his fist looks like, but Katara reaches a hand for his shoulder.

“He’s not worth it, I promise.” Her words are gentle. He turns around slowly to face her. “What’s your name?”

“Zuko.”

“Well, thanks, Zuko. I didn’t want to admit it in front of that ass hat, but you really helped me out there. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

Zuko nods keeping his head down. He didn’t really know what to say in a situation like this. “No problem.” Is all he can think of.

Katara gives him a soft smile, “Now that you’ve saved my life, I guess I owe you one.” She lets out a small laugh and then looks like she’s just had a grand idea. “Hey! Actually, my brother and I usually invite the band over to hang out after our shows. You’re welcome to come. We don’t live that far away and you can walk with us, you know, as a thank you.”

Zuko is dumbfounded. Hanging out, with the band? No. This was not happening.

“I- uhh-“ Zuko stammers and looks down searching for an answer in the loose gravel underneath him. Hoping to grasp at any excuse he can think of.

Katara interrupts him, “Look, just know it would make me feel better if you came, plus I have a feeling my brother would want to thank you in person for what you did tonight.” She kind of rolls her eyes to herself at the mention of her brother, but then she looks up at him politely smiling, her eyebrows raised in a question.

Zuko feels like he’s left with only one choice. He sighs and looks up at her, “Sure. I’ll go.”

Katara smiles wide, the braids surrounding her face swooshing with her excitement, “Great! Let’s introduce you to the band then!”

* * *

Katara, guiding Zuko by the shoulder, has lead them both to a parking lot across the street. “Alright guys, this is Zuko!”

Everyone. Every single member of the band looks extremely confused.

“Where’s Jet?” The bass player asks.

Katara rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “He left due to artistic differences, we can talk about that later.” She looks at everyone thoughtfully. She seems to be a well respected leader in the group judging by how they’re all taking this very awkward situation in stride, “Zuko here kind of saved me today-“

“Katara.” A short girl with a bob cuts in, the drummer if he remembers correctly. “What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

Katara shoots a look at her. “Well if you had let me _finish_ I would have said that Jet tried to literally kill me just now and Zuko managed to distract him before he could.”

This time, the bass player, who Zuko now thinks is her brother interrupts. “Katara… Jet tried to what now?” His tone is very serious.

Katara immediately back pedals, “He just tried to throw a glass bottle at me, it was nothing, I’m fine, Sokka. Like I said Zuko got there just in time to-“

“I’m sorry, I just need you to walk me through this real quick because what if he hadn’t, Katara? What if it had just been you there and this Zuko guy hadn’t shown up? What would have happened then, huh? He could’ve _killed_ you!”

“I could’ve taken care of myself, Sokka! I’ve never needed anyone to babysit me!”

A boy Zuko swears he didn’t see onstage steps in between them, “Hey guys! No need to fight in front of our guest of honor! Katara, we will definitely be talking about this later, but for now,” He says this with a pained smile in Zuko’s direction. “why exactly did you bring Zuko here?”

Katara sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Zuko is here because I invited him to our house with us as a thank you. It’s the least I could do, but thanks to everyone’s outbursts he probably has no interest in that. Do you, Zuko?”

All of a sudden all eyes are on him, Zuko’s face flushes immediately. He has no words for this exact moment.

Thankfully, the boy who stopped the sibling fight jumps in again, “Hey look, it’s totally okay if you have something else you need to do tonight, but we’d really appreciate your company, especially if what Katara says is true. We owe it to you.” He gives Zuko a reassuring smile.

Zuko once again feels like he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Reluctantly, he nods his head.

“Yes!” the guy cheers, “party time with Zuko! Let’s get going then!”

They start walking, but to his left Zuko hears the drummer girl whisper, “He’s kinda quiet for a hero, no?”

The lead guitarist girl gives her a look and punches her in the shoulder. When she notices Zuko watching she just smiles quickly and looks down, walking to the front of the group and tugging the drummer along with her.

What has this night turned into?

“Well, I’m Aang. I’m uhh, assuming you went to the show based on your outfit.”

Zuko looks down at himself, his clothes are drenched in sweat and he’s wearing a black shirt over black pants and black boots. While that’s probably true, this was his normal get up. Kinda casual in a serious way.

Aang goes on, “As you could probably tell, I’m not a part of the band. But Katara and I are dating and well, all these guys are my closest friends,” He smiles at the group in front of them. “Sometimes I play the tambourine for them during rehearsals, but I mostly just like to watch, I-“

Katara puts an arm around his shoulders looking like she’s trying not to laugh, “Thanks, Aang for that _brief_ introduction. As you know I’m Katara, and that’s my brother Sokka.” Sokka was in the front of the group conspiring with the lead guitarist. “Next to him is Suki, and finally our drummer’s name is Toph.” She was on Sokka’s other side holding on to his arm, not particularly listening to whatever the two next to her were silently speaking about.

“And that’s everyone! Sorry, but I’m gonna go talk to my brother before he has an aneurism real quick, excuse me.” Katara hurriedly makes her way over to Sokka who is now very loudly exclaiming to Suki that he should’ve been there to protect Katara while calling Jet some very choice words.

Aang laughs awkwardly and hangs back motioning Zuko to do the same, “It’s uhh, best to give them their space when they’re like this.”

Zuko nods his head.

“So, Zuko, what brought you to watch the world renowned Elements?”

Zuko lets out a polite laugh, “My uncle owns a tea shop that I work at during the week. Some kids dropped off some fliers for the show tonight and I decided to check it out.”

“So how did you run into Katara?”

“Uhh…”

Zuko realizes he can’t give the actual answer to that question without looking like a complete idiot, so he settles for something less embarrassing. “I took the wrong door and ended up in the alley. Then I heard a bottle crash and went to go check it out.” Before Aang can ask any more questions, Zuko changes the subject, “So, that Jet guy, kind of an asshole, huh?”

Aang looks a little put off by the question, but answers nonetheless, “He has his faults, like we all do. He’s just…” He chooses the next word carefully, “Complicated. Yeah, complicated.” He nods his head, seemingly proud of his answer.

Zuko decides not to prod, just nods his head in return.

“Well, I’m glad you were there to help, Katara. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she had gotten hurt. I’m not much of a fighter. Self defense is more my thing, but I’m not usually one to provoke others.” He looks up ahead once again, “Sokka on the other hand, I don’t even want to _know_ what he would’ve done if he had gotten his hands on Jet in that moment.” They both laugh in unison as up ahead Sokka continues to yell about Jet despite Katara’s constant pleading to just _let it go for Christ’s sake, Sokka!_

In that moment, Zuko decides that maybe this Aang guy doesn’t seem so bad.

After a bit more casual conversation with Aang, he looks to the rest of the group. Sokka and Katara seem to have reconciled their differences and are now laughing with Toph about some joke she just made. Suki is scrolling through her phone not particularly tuned in to the conversation, but outwardly smiling just the same.

Shit, _wait_. Just then the thought occurs to him. He’s going to Sokka’s house. The exact guy who inadvertently got him into this situation in the first place. The thought sends chills through his spine that make Aang ask if he needs a jacket. Zuko politely rejects the offer and crosses his arms around himself tighter.

There’s no way he’s going to bring himself to talk to Sokka. How could he? But, he supposes, he did have a leg up now that he saved his sister, right? No, no. He can’t think like that. He can’t-

The group collectively stops in front of a large building and Zuko nearly runs into Aang from being so consumed in his own thoughts.

“This is it!” Katara calls back, presumably to Zuko.

Confronted by a nice looking apartment complex, they all enter inside and Zuko follows closely behind cracking his knuckles in what he hopes is a casual and not anxious way.

* * *

As Katara ushers everyone in, Zuko follows everyone’s lead and finds a place to sit on Sokka and Katara’s couch quietly astonished. His thoughts from previously have begun to ruminate in his mind once again. _How?_ How had he managed to get himself into this mess? This absolutely idiotically stupid, mess? And more importantly, how was he ever going to bring himself to talk to Sokka?

He takes in the room around him and ponders over whether he could casually move to end up sitting next to him? But the rest of the band was already situated in their seating arrangement, Suki at his left side and Katara on the other.

Shit. He remembers he’s probably dating Suki anyway, so what does it matter?

Zuko sighs to himself and tunes in to whatever conversations the group is having around him. Aang and Katara are lovingly looking into each other’s eyes talking about how inspiring tonight’s set was. On the other side of the room, Suki and Sokka are still quietly discussing what Zuko assumes to be Jet as he hears various broken up sentences about, “replacements”. Toph is casually sitting back, not really looking at anything in particular, just keeping to herself. Zuko, not really knowing which conversation he should be a part of, if he should try and be a part of them at all, chooses (to no one’s surprise) to listen more keenly to the conversation Sokka is in.

“Look, Sooks, I just don’t think we’ll find a replacement that fast.” Sokka says in a hushed tone.

“Sokka, we have to. We can’t forfeit this gig, we don’t come by many as it is. If we bail, we’ll get blackballed around here.”

“You’re right, I just… I need time to come up with a plan alright.” Sokka furrows his brow and puts his chin in his hand. He looks up only to notice Zuko looking his way. “Uh, new guy, what’s up got any thoughts to help us out?”

Zuko’s eyes go wide as he realizes Sokka is addressing him.

Sokka gives him an expecting look, cocking an eyebrow as if to say, uhh hello?

Zuko clears his throat. A million things going through his head at once, he settles on, “Uhh, can’t you guys hold auditions?”

Sokka chews on that thought for a bit before saying back, “Yeah, but we only have 2 weeks. Setting up auditions would take a few days, then actually conducting them, then teaching songs, that’s way too much time. Fuck, man. We’re really boned.”

Zuko lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Well at least he said something Sokka thought was semi-intelligent. And at least he finally spoke to the guy, even if it was just a single sentence.

Before he can panic over continuing the conversation, Katara interrupts them all in a sing-songy voice, “Guys, what about some celebratory karaoke?”

Aang’s eyes immediately light up and Suki and Sokka both laugh at their excitement while Toph actively groans. Meanwhile, Zuko has shrunken deeper into the couch at the suggestion, hoping he can make himself so small he might disappear completely.

Sokka smiles in Zuko’s direction, “Yeah, whaddaya say, new guy? You up for some karaoke?”

Katara rolls her eyes in annoyance, “He has a name, Sokka. And it’s Zuko.”

Meanwhile, Zuko must look absolutely mortified, because Aang cuts in to save the day as per usual, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just uhh, we like to sing, we’re a band, y’know? Band things. But uhh, we won’t be bothered if you don’t sing with us.” He lets off a crooked smile and shrugs his shoulders

“Yeah, we’ll just be weally sad.” Sokka calls out from the other side of the room, letting his bottom lip pout as he bats his eyes.

Katara throws a pillow at him and turns to Zuko. “Sorry about him, as you can probably tell he hasn’t aged beyond high school.”

She waits a few beats before adding with a smirk, “… and he tends to over act when he’s around cute boys.”

Now it was Sokka’s turn to return the pillow by chucking it in Katara’s direction. “Hey” He says laughing, “Don’t expose me like that in front of the new guy!” 

Zuko’s face burns at the slight jab at Sokka and compliment to himself, but luckily it seems no one has noticed.

Wait… does that mean Sokka is? No. Cannot think about that right now. No. No. No. No.

“Alright, since Katara and I suggested it, we’ll go first!” Aang springs from his seat next to her and pulls her up with him. “We’ll be doing Don’t go Breaking My Heart!”

To Zuko’s surprise, Sokka, Suki, and Toph all fake gag in unison, but it seems good natured. Well, all except for Toph who seems genuinely disgusted at their song choice. 

The rest of the night goes on filled with entertaining and what seems to be pretty on brand renditions of songs. Toph steps in after the couple’s duet screaming to “Chopped Suey” saying she wants to show them what “cool music” sounds like. Suki gives an actually great rendition of “Ain’t it Fun” By Paramore, and Sokka. Sheesh, Sokka decides to sing Fly me to the moon by Frank Sinatra. At first, Zuko is taken aback by his confidence. Hardly anyone can do Sinatra justice. But as soon as Sokka melts into that first note, Zuko knows it’s over, and not just for him.

Every note is hit with that jazzy eloquence very few can reproduce. And in the few glimpses Zuko thinks Sokka steals at him (even though he’s sure he’s making direct eye contact with everyone right? It’s a performance, right???), Zuko is absolutely smitten. From where he’s seated, he is once again able to see why all the girls at the rock show hope to be noticed by him. He’s a natural born entertainer.

After Sokka has finished and garnered claps from everyone, he turns to Zuko, tossing him the mic. “Alright, new guy, show us what you got.”

Zuko is once again frozen, the mic landing haphazardly in his lap.

“Look, I don’t…” He starts. But that’s the thing. He does. But, but, not like in front of people. He only ever accidentally sings in front of his uncle. And even then he gets terribly embarrassed when his uncle calls him out on it. It usually happens unconsciously while he’s setting up or cleaning for the day at the shop…

Aang starts to say, “It’s okay, Zuko! Maybe next time, we all just met anyh-”

But Toph cuts him off abruptly, egging Zuko on, “Come on, pretty boy, give us a show?”

Katara and Suki look expectantly at Zuko, not necessarily wanting to join in on the teasing, but definitely secretly hoping Zuko takes the offer.

“I- uhh-“ Zuko stammers for just a bit more before ultimately looking down sheepishly in some sort of inner defeat, “I really don’t sing.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Sokka lets out a good yawn, breaking the silence that has befallen the group, “Well, it’s alright, I’m getting kind of tired anyway. Pretty eventful day, huh guys?” He nudges Suki in the shoulder and she laughs. This for some reason, irks Zuko, but he quickly glosses over that.

There are various nods and yawns in unison, even Zuko finds himself feeling suddenly drained of energy. He hadn’t realized how much today had taken out of him. Being social really is a full time job.

Zuko gets up.

“Thanks for inviting me here. You guys had a great set. I’ll see you around.” He bows politely towards them and starts to turn towards the door.

“Need a ride home, Zuko?” It’s Suki.

At this point its about 2:30 AM and although Zuko has walked through town plenty of times at this time of night, he is pretty tired, and his uncle would feel much more at ease if he knew that Zuko had gotten a ride home. He hated when Zuko took long walks during the late night to “think”.

“Uh sure.” Zuko replies. “I live off Omashu if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Sweet! That’s right up the road from Kyoshi Avenue where I live.”

“Thanks, Suki.”

“Well, bye everyone see you at practice!” Suki waves and Zuko does the same before beginning to follow her out.

“Wait, Zuko!” It’s Aang. “Let me get your number, so I can let you know when our next gig is!”

Zuko has to pretend he’s not at least a little excited at the thought of watching them again. He’s slowly turning into a fan himself.

“Yeah, for sure.”

With numbers exchanged it’s finally time to follow Suki to her car. It isn’t a long drive. For this Zuko is thankful. He had done more than enough socializing for the next two weeks, but Suki trying not to let the silence get awkward interjects Zuko’s thoughts.

“So, Zuko, what brought you to the show?”

Zuko is slightly annoyed at the question. Didn’t he answer that already? Oh wait, that was with Aang at the beginning of the night. Gosh, that feels like a million years ago at this point.

“Uh, I saw the poster in my uncle’s tea shop, I work there during the week.”

Suki nearly runs over a curb. “SHUT UP.”

Zuko’s hand shoots to grip the handle above his head startled at the sudden jerk of the car. He hits his shoulder against her window in the process, “What?”

“Shit sorry, haha.” She laughs it off nonchalantly, then goes right back to her shocked excitement “You’re not talking about the Jasmine Dragon are you?”

Zuko nods his head, rubbing his shoulder.

“No way! I love it there! Sokka and I stop by sometimes on Saturdays after band practice. Dude, your uncle makes the BEST milk tea!”

Zuko winces inwardly. Her _and_ Sokka. Of course. “Yeah, uh, its pretty good.” He tries to make it sound casual, but it comes out more defeated than he anticipated. Suki steals a concerned glance at him.

“Everything okay?” She offers. It’s completely earnest, not like she’s expecting an answer, but if she’s given one she’d try her best to help out.

Zuko takes a moment to figure out how he’s about to answer. He barely knows her after all and not to mention he is extremely attracted to her possible boyfriend. Definitely not something he wants to talk about with the likes of her, he decides. Despite his initial annoyance, she does seem nice though. He chooses the easiest answer he can think of, “Just tired.”

Suki nods understandingly, but there remains slight concern in her gaze. She turns the volume dial up slightly and lets a jagged beat wash over them. Zuko’s only thoughts are counting the traffic lights until they finally arrive on Omashu Dr. Suki drives up to drop Zuko off at his front door.

She smiles as he opens her car door, “See you around?”

“Yeah.” Zuko gives her a slight wave as she drives off. Well, probably not.

Zuko quietly walks up the stairs to his room as to not wake his sleeping uncle, actually exhausted at this point. When he gets there he doesn’t even bother taking his shoes off, just hops on his bed and begins to drift off. Before he can completely fall asleep a loud vibration fills the room. Zuko, almost too tired to care, can’t help but be curious as to who would be texting him at such a late hour.

He picks up his phone to see a message from a number he didn't recognize.

**Unknown**

_Hey, new guy. Stole your number when you gave it to Aang. Sooks texted me you could get me some free tea? Might have to hit you up on that lol_

Zuko laughs to himself, both surprised and amused. Just then a second message pops onto the screen.

_Oh and thanks for coming to the show btw :)_

Zuko, has to put his phone down as a big stupid grin has creeped its way onto his face. Too tired to keep his eyes open for one more second he puts his head to his pillow. He’ll reply in the morning. For now, he slips into a dreamless sleep swatting away thoughts of blue eyes in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys this is my first ever fic and I'm kinda excited about it?? I have lots of ideas (peep that "just when you think its going well..." tag LOL, so yeah lmk if this is worth continuing. v angsty plans. also follow me on tumblr @flowerpotpudding for updates?


	2. to fall in love and fall in debt

The smell of warm tea and biscuits from the kitchen below fill Zuko’s room. Stretching and yawning, he rolls onto his side not wanting to get up just yet.

_Mmm… Just 5 more minutes…_

Burying his face deeper into his pillow, he shields his eyes from the early sunlight brimming his window and drifts into the typical morning thoughts thrown about lazily in his still sleepy mind.

_I have a shift at the dragon today, I have to text Sokka back, I have to stop by the bank to deposit a check…_

Zuko’s eyes fly wide open. His mind finally starts to catch up with him. Sokka? _SHIT._

He springs up from his bed in a blur of black and trips over his untied shoes that he managed to fall asleep in. He lands face first onto his carpeted floor with a loud _thud._

“Ughhh.” Zuko lies on the floor, groaning in pain.

“Zuko?” Iroh calls from downstairs more than a tad bit concerned at the ruckus above him.

“I’m fine, Uncle!” Sitting up, Zuko blows some hair from his eyes in an annoyed huff.

“Well, come down for breakfast. I made the most extraordinary te-“

“Yes, Uncle. I know, I’m going!”

Sheesh.

Zuko manages to grab his phone that he had left on the floor the night before and presses the power button three times to no avail.

You’ve _got_ to be kidding me. It must’ve died at some point during the night.

He leaps over his bed to grab his charger and plugs it in. He sighs looking up at himself in his mirror. In truth, he looks like complete shit. Judging by the clock on the wall it’s 7 AM which means he slept about 4 hours. Judging by the purple that has settled under his eyes you’d think it was more like 2. His hair is a mess sticking out every which way and his clothes smell of sweat from the night’s prior engagements. Zuko now realizes how gross he feels. Suddenly, a shower seems fit.

At least it will keep him from staring at his blank phone screen until it lights up with enough juice to power back on again.

* * *

After freshening up, Zuko finds himself staring at a dark screen. Could it be that he dreamt everything that happened last night? Even if by some miracle he didn’t dream it, there’s no way that he actually got a text from-

“Nephew?”

Zuko quickly turns around hiding his phone behind his back. Iroh has appeared in his doorframe seemingly out of nowhere.

Iroh clears his throat, obviously confused by the sight of a freshly showered Zuko looking egregiously suspicious, “Nephew, is everything alright?”

Zuko, looking down to find himself clothed only in his maroon bath towel, realizes how peculiar he must look to his uncle right then.

“Yes, Uncle. I Just-” He shakes his head, his tone becoming increasingly hostile, “I just woke up, okay? Can’t I have like 5 minutes of privacy!?” He moves forward to close the door, but his uncle catches it just before it closes all the way.

“I made some delicious-“

“TEA! Yes, I know. I’ll be out in a second. God!”

Zuko slams the door in Iroh’s face and sits on his bed. His hair still slightly dripping. He sighs, looking once again at his dark phone screen. This time there’s no hesitation, he can’t risk another interruption. He nearly winces at the thought of what he might see, but just as he had remembered in feverish thoughts from the night before, there sits a text from an unknown number staring straight back at him.

_Oh and thanks for coming to the show btw :)_

Zuko releases the tension from his shoulders and lets out a long breath through his nose.

So, it wasn’t a dream. He actually did go to a rock show last night. He did hang out with the band afterwards, and he definitely did get a text from the hot bass player.

Not that it made _any_ sense at all.

The clock on the wall now reads 7:15. Shit. He had to get to the shop by 7:30 to help out Jin with the opening duties.

Zuko jumps into his clothes, grabs his charger and phone, and runs downstairs only stopping in the kitchen for a brief second to snatch a biscuit for the road.

“Goodbye, Uncle!”

In Zuko’s inelegant attempt to both run out the door and close it with full hands, he accidentally slams it shut, not waiting to hear what his Uncle’s response might be.

Iroh only waves his hand in Zuko’s direction, a bit saddened that there is still a full kettle of tea sitting on their dining room table along with the lingering air of a missed conversation.

* * *

In the brisk morning air, Zuko munches on his biscuit and stares at his phone.

**_Sokka_ **

_Oh and thanks for coming to the show btw :)_

What’s he supposed to say to that? Has it already been too long?

Zuko stops chewing briefly to type out, “You’re welcome.”

He beams to himself. Okay, okay, that’s a good start. Now what do we say? Thanks for inviting me over? No, it was his sister that did that. Thanks for having me? YES. Yes, write that down!

Zuko begins to furiously type on his phone, his finger hovering over the send button.

He reads the typed out words one more time,

_You’re welcome. Thanks for having me at your apartment last night. I had fun._

Should he add a smiley face? Sokka had added a smiley face. He had to match his energy. Afterall, if he doesn’t send one Sokka might think he’s uninterested.

Okay, adding a smiley face.

He takes one final look at the text.

Aaaaaand, send.

He lets out a sigh of relief. See, that wasn’t so bad?

He walks a few steps further before halting completely.

 _WAIT_.

What if the smiley face was too forward? What if he gets the impression that Zuko _likes_ him?

Zuko’s pace quickens as his thoughts begin to spiral. As much as this was an exhilarating situation to be in, it sure was stressful.

He looks at his watch, 7:28. Shit. He decides to floor it for the tea shop in an attempt to both quiet his mind and not have Jin bitch at him for being late.

* * *

He practically runs into the tea shop at 7:33. A very curious Jin awaits him there.

“Well, you look rather chipper this morning?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Zuko and Jin have grown a familiar banter over the last few years of working together, Jin constantly teasing Zuko for his pessimistic ways and vice versa.

Jin has already started putting upturned chairs back in their places alongside tables on the floor. Zuko puts his phone and jacket behind the counter and moves to do the same. In what’s usually a painful start to his morning, Zuko finds himself breezing through the trivial shop-opening tasks. Even matching Jin’s pace, who is a resident world-class worker at this establishment.

“So,” Jin gives Zuko a sideways glance “seriously what is with you? No complaints, no embarrassing Iroh stories, nothing? Is it gonna rain today?” She makes a point to lean her whole body towards a window and peer out.

“What,” Zuko remarks cheekily “I can’t have a good morning?”

Jin snorts, “Oh, you can. You just never have.”

Zuko rolls his eyes and blows at some hair that has migrated to the fronts of his eyes.

Just beyond the tables they’re setting up, a loud vibration sounds at the counter where Zuko’s belongings are. Zuko immediately looks up. Jin notices this.

From where he’s standing, he knows he has approximately 3 seconds before she runs to check his phone. She also has at least a 5 second lead to the counter on him. By the way her smile has turned from sweet to maniacal, he knows she knows this too. She raises an eyebrow in his direction.

“JIN, NO!”

In no time at all Jin has bolted to the space behind the counter. Zuko is close behind.

Jin reaches for the phone, giggling uncontrollably. Zuko is absolutely frantic.

“JIN!”

They both stop. Jin with Zuko’s phone in her hand, and Zuko directly across from her on the other side of the counter. She looks absolutely elated.

Zuko winces as the screen lights up her face.

“Oooooh, I see why your panties are in a bunch… who’s Sokka?” She wiggles her eyebrows at Zuko playfully.

Zuko is beyond pissed off at her now, “Jin, stop. Just give me the phone.” He moves to grab the phone from her dainty hands.

Jin is now holding Zuko back with one arm as she holds the phone as far away from him as possible with the other.

“Should I text him back for you, Zuko? Lord knows you don’t have any game.” She giggles again, “Maybe something along the lines of, ‘I’m Zuko, and I like you sooooo much I can’t even tell my lovely co-worker about you without getting flustered.’“

Zuko goes bright red. “Jin, seriously! Give it back!” In one very aggressive movement, Zuko pushes her arm to get close enough to snatch the phone from her grip.

“ _OW_!”

Zuko steps back from the counter, phone in his hand, pleased with himself.

“Okay, asshole, I was just messing with you! What the _HELL??”_ Jin is looking at him in disbelief, rubbing her arm.

Zuko looks up only to see her in legitimate pain. He immediately starts to feel remorseful for being so rough with her.

“I was just joking around. Plus, what would it matter if I knew about whoever this guy is anyway? I thought we were friends?” her lips go pouty as she says this averting her eyes from Zuko’s.

Zuko tries to backpedal from his actions.

“We are!” he says, “I just- Agh, I’m sorry, Jin! Here let me see.” Zuko motions to her arm, but she takes a few sidesteps away, furthering the distance between them.

She doesn’t say anything, just opens the register to start counting the money within it.

“Jin, don’t be like that. Come on, I said I’m sorry.”

“Well, sorry doesn’t cut it, Zuko. You could stand to just chill for a bit sometimes.”

Zuko sighs.

The clock on the wall read 7:45 which means they still had 15 minutes until the first customers started showing up. Far too much time to wait in painful silence.

Zuko clears his throat, “His name is Sokka-“

“I know that already.” Jin retorts.

“I wasn’t finished.” Zuko shoots her a look as he’s wiping down the counter. He rolls his eyes and continues, “He’s in a band.”

Jin pauses from counting but doesn’t let Zuko have the satisfaction of her piqued interest. “Hmm.” She says lightly as though she doesn’t care.

“Yeah,” Zuko knows that he’s got her attention, now all he’s gotta do is reel her in slowly. “He’s the bass player… and- and he’s like really hot.” The words fly out of Zuko’s mouth before he can think of their repercussions, his cheeks have become tinted in a rush of pink. “Hrmm, yeah, and he seems like really nice, but umm, texting is about as crazy as it gets.” Zuko has stopped cleaning altogether and is gritting his teeth at the sound of his own voice echoing through the empty shop. He must sound like an idiot to her right now.

Jin however has now let her smile slip completely, her words coming at Zuko like water from a broken dam, “How’d he get your number? Did you give it to him? That’s so unlike you!”

Zuko can’t help but let out a small laugh at her childlike excitement, even if this conversation is somewhat painful for him. “He, uhh, actually got it from his friend who I gave it to earlier in the night.”

Zuko doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh my _GOD_! Zuko, he totally likes you!!!” She’s practically screaming.

He shrugs it off coolly, “Jin. I don’t even know if he likes boys yet?”

“Zuko, _please_. He’s a _bass_ player. What more do you need to know?”

“He might have a girlfriend!”

“Maybe he swings both ways!”

“JIN!”

But when he looks to her she’s already practicing her perfect customer service smile in the wake of the early morning rush that’s just walked through the door.

* * *

When the last table of customers leave the shop Zuko decides to start cleaning up. Jin has to leave early tonight. Something about making dinner for her and her younger siblings. No matter, this was actually Zuko’s favorite time of the day. Especially when he was by himself. Not only was he done dealing with entitled customers, but he now had all the time in the world to get lost in his thoughts while doing menial tasks.

He starts by wiping down the tables. Two sprays of cleaning solution, a couple wipes of his rag, and onto the next one.

Throughout the day he has kept a steady banter with Sokka via texts. Sneaking to the back of the shop every 30 minutes or so to slip in a few lighthearted replies before Jin calls to him that a customer is waiting to be rung up. The thought of this easy conversation lightens the atmosphere of the shop for him instantly.

Before he even realizes it he starts quietly humming to himself, still shuffling around the shop to clean. He’s even bobbing his head to some imaginary tune.

Zuko laughs. I must look like an _idiot,_ he thinks. But there’s something about having a good night that makes cleaning a little less trivial, steps a little lighter, and songs a little sweeter.

He thinks of Sokka, belting out the notes to Fly Me to the Moon just the night before. He starts to sway back and forth grabbing the mop to his right.

Zuko is no longer in the musty tea shop he has grown to despise. He’s out, centerstage with The Elements, singing for an exhilarated crowd at The Boiling Rock.

With as much jazzy eloquence as he can muster, Zuko starts to sing.

_Fly me to the moon._

_Let me play among the stars._

His eyes are closed and he’s singing like no one in the world can hear him.

_Let me see what Spring is like on a-Jupiter and Mars._

Finally, he gets to the big finale.

_In other words…_

He imagines trumpets blaring in the background.

_In other words…_

He’s smiling.

_I._

He throws his head back.

_Love._

He can almost hear the crowd roaring.

_You._

_“_ ZUKO?!”

FUCK.

Zuko jumps at the completely unexpected sound of his name. In one big motion he tries to turn and face where it came from, but on his way he loses his balance tripping over his own two feet. In a blind panic he grabs at the kitchen curtain in front of him, pulling it with him as he descends towards the ground. For the second time today, Zuko falls flat on his ass.

“ _AGH_!”

Zuko is a helpless mess on the floor, the now torn embroidered pattern scattered haphazardly around him.

He hears footsteps running towards him. “Holy shit? Are you alright?” Someone tries to grab Zuko by the elbow to help him up, but he winces.

Zuko opens his eyes only to see a very concerned Suki and a questionably optimistic looking Sokka.

No way. He must’ve hit his head harder than he thought.

“We came to say hi, but holy SHIT, you’ve got some pipes, Zuko! Haha!” Sokka is smiling profusely until Suki hits him with the back of her hand, then he looks down at Zuko and adds, “Oh also, uhh, you alright, buddy?”

Zuko cannot believe this is happening. This actually _can’t_ be happening.

“Yeah, can we help you at all, looks like you hit your head pretty bad there?” Suki looks desperate to both get help immediately and supply it all herself.

Why are they here? Why of all the tea shops in all the world did they come into this one, _NOW?_

Zuko starts to pull himself up to a seated position, grimacing in the process. Sokka holds out his hand in response, but Zuko shakes his head and works his way up by himself, too embarrassed to take the outstretched arm. Sokka looks reasonably disappointed at this choice.

“Could you get me some ice from the freezer in the back?” Zuko manages to say to no one in particular, rubbing the side of his head with his hand.

Suki jumps into action, “Of course!” and before anyone can say anything she’s already bolted for the back of the shop.

Now it’s just Sokka and Zuko.

Sokka breaks the silence. “So, Zuko, uhh your voice, it’s really good.” Sokka tries and fails to mask the desperation in his voice at filling the room with conversation.

Zuko has never felt more uncomfortable in his whole life.

Sokka continues on clumsily, “Hrmm. Yeah. Anyway, I’ve had some pretty bad falls too, this one time…”

Sokka begins a story that Zuko is not even paying a little bit of attention to. All Zuko knows is pain in this moment. Both physically and metaphorically. While it is admittedly kind of cute that Sokka is nervously rambling on about who knows what, Zuko can focus on nothing more than how impossibly _awkward_ this situation is. He just took probably the biggest hit to his dignity in his entire life. He wishes he could just sink into the floor and never return. Become one with the Earth. Return to the primordial soup from which he began.

Suki interrupts them both as she rushes in, stopping in the doorway, “I’ve got ice!”

Both Sokka and Zuko look at her blankly. Sokka has let himself trail off from his half-finished story about falling down a hill while hunting with his dad and Zuko is still jostled from both the fall and losing his current train of thought.

Suki lets off a tight smile and moves to hand the ice to Zuko. She offers her elbow in the process which Zuko begrudgingly takes. Upon getting up he realizes that he banged his knee pretty hard on the way down, meaning walking will be a little rough for now. Using Suki as a crutch, she helps get him to a booth. Sokka moves to his other side and puts an arm around his waist to help bare some weight with Suki in the process. Zuko pretends not to notice how he slightly flushes at the gesture.

When they get to the booth, Zuko plops down on one side and Suki and Sokka sit on the other. Zuko leans his head back letting the pain wash over him, gritting his teeth. When he puts the newly formed ice pack to his head, it screams in pain at first, then it melts into a cooling feeling. Zuko closes his eyes and lets out a long breath.

“So,” Zuko doesn’t look up at them. He can’t. “How much of that did you hear?” He rubs his neck feeling completely floored.

“All of it, and you were GOOD. We were actually wondering if you would-“

Suki shoots a look at Sokka who in return lets himself trail off once more, shrugging his shoulders.

She says to Sokka pointedly, “We weren’t wondering anything, don’t worry.” She looks to Zuko with a genuinely soft smile, “We just want to know you’re okay? We saw you in the window on our way home from practice walking to the back of the shop and we were so excited we didn’t even think to check the store hours. We shouldn’t have just barged in like that and we’re sorry.”

Zuko opens his eyes to find Suki staring at him apologetically. Sokka is looking the other way, a bit irked for whatever reason.

“It’s fine, I was mostly done anyway. Just need to lock up and I can head home.” Zuko attempts to lift himself from the booth, but the pressure on his knee causes pain to shoot up his entire body, he falls back into his seat hard.

“Oh no you’re not,” Suki says “I’ll take you home. I know where you live remember?” She tilts her head and gives a knowing smile in his direction.

If Zuko wasn’t fully incapacitated he would never in a million years think of getting into a moving vehicle with either of these two ever again. Not after the embarrassing feat he just pulled off.

Zuko sighs in painful resignation. “That would actually be… nice. Thanks.”

“Great, in that case, we can help you to the car.”

After helping Zuko close-up shop, both Suki and Sokka help him into Suki’s backseat. Sokka takes shot gun.

Zuko broods in the back of the car as Sokka and Suki casually talk over Suki’s soft pop playlist. Zuko could care less about the conversation they were having in this pity ride they were giving him.

Suki drives to Sokka’s place first. He leaves without much word to Zuko, just a sympathetic, “Hope you feel better.” and a hug for Suki. Zuko pretends neither of these actions cause him additional pain to his aching leg.

As Suki drives off she turns the dial on her stereo, raising the volume in the car. She must have learned from last time that Zuko would much rather stare out a car window than participate in small talk. For this, he is silently grateful. He’s not sure he’s got much talk left in him at all today.

After the same short drive as before, Suki turns down the volume once again, “Welp, here we are.” she looks at him through the rear view mirror as they pull up to his house.

Zuko can’t take it anymore. He’s already had the worst day of his life, he might as well rip the band-aid off completely. Holding tightly to the door handle that he hesitates to use, he clears his throat, “So how long have you and Sokka been, y’know…” He waves his hand in the air and lets himself trail off, hoping she’ll get the message.

Suki puts her hand on the passenger side headrest and turns to get a better look at Zuko. She tilts her head at him, “Me and? Me and _SOKKA_? Oh!” She starts laughing.

Zuko’s grip tightens on her door handle leaving his knuckles a ghostly white. How could she be laughing right now?

Taking a moment to calm herself she looks back at Zuko, who is staring at her deadpanned in the most severe way. She ceases smiling then pauses, “Oh shit, you were serious?”

Zuko looks at her dumfounded.

She looks back with the same expression. “Zuko, I’m gay?”

Zuko just continues to stare at her, so she continues on.

“Sokka’s my best friend in the entire world. Plus, I mean…” She points to the screen on her car. Some band called Girl in Red is playing. Zuko has no idea what any of this has to do with Suki liking women.

Suki pauses now, gears start turning in her own head. She nods slowly and bites her lip, “So yeah, Sokka’s single. Like _very_ single if you needed to know.”

“Oh God, no wait that’s not what I-“ But Zuko’s already blushing a deep red.

Suki sneaks another sideways glance at him and just nods her head, feigning seriousness, although the hint of a smile is still present on her lips.

Zuko crosses his arms and slouches deeply into her back seat. How many times is he going to absolutely embarrass himself in one day?

A couple beats of silence pass between them before Zuko starts to move for the door handle once again.

Before he can set off, Suki apprehensively begins to speak, “So, uh…” she seems nervous, which from the short amount of time Zuko has known her seems a bit weird. He can’t help but be intrigued. “There was I guess, some truth to what Sokka was saying earlier, or at least trying to say before I kept interrupting him. It just- it seemed so unfortunate to bring it up just then when we had just barged in on you like that. And then you were hurt and, well, it just didn’t seem like a good time for a- uhh- business inquiry?” Zuko can tell the words taste weird on her tongue.

“What are you even talking about?” Zuko is helplessly lost.

“Ugh, right.” She composes herself, “Look, Sokka was right, you do have a beautiful voice and we know it’s sudden, but you’ve already spent some time with the band and everyone seems to like you! Plus, you saved Katara so we thought we’d maybe invite you to be a part-“

“No.”

He can’t possibly imagine having to face these two again, let alone the rest of the band. In fact, the traumatizing effects of being caught in such a vulnerable state might lead him to become selectively mute, especially for singing.

Suki throws her hands up, “Zuko, come on! It’s _one_ show, and then we’ll find a permanent replacement! Plus, it’s at this super small venue across town that nobody even knows about. It’s like 20 people max.” There’s a hopeful sheen to her eyes.

The grotesque feeling that has settled at the pit of Zuko’s stomach tells him he is not apt for the deed she is suggesting.

“Suki, I just mean- I’m flattered. Really, but I’m not a singer.”

“But you ARE, Zuko! We heard you!”

“Yeah, against my will!” Zuko lets the words come out without an ounce of civility.

The sting of their context shows on the shadow that has cast its way onto Suki’s face.

She looks down in quiet acceptance, “You’re right. I’m sorry, Zuko. I guess- we’re just a little desperate at this point, and to find out you sing just a day after meeting you and you knowing the whole situation with Jet and the band, it just- it seemed too good to be true. Almost like fate, you know?”

Zuko didn’t know. He had never been a fan of the term fate. Fate, as others knew it hadn’t been too kind to him all these years.

“I’m sorry, Suki. I can’t. Thanks for the ride. Send my regards to the band.” With as much strength as he can muster he pulls himself from the car and puts on a rigid poker face though there is searing pain coming from his leg.

He doesn’t bother looking back, but he can still feel Suki’s gaze drilling sad holes in the back of his head.

* * *

Once he’s inside, he can’t hide the immense limp he’s developed.

Iroh stands up immediately from his seat at the kitchen table, “Zuko! What happened to you?”

“Not now, Uncle.” He’s already staring up the staircase, cursing the fact his room is on the second floor. He swallows and takes the first step up. Pain makes his vision go white with each new step, but he’s too stubborn to think of anything but getting to his bed to lay down.

Iroh scurries to follow him up the steps to his room, a hand hovering carefully over his back as to assist if Zuko should fall or stumble. When Zuko makes his way through the doorway, Iroh brings a hand up to say something, but Zuko slams the door in his face, frustrated with the tangle of thoughts filtering through his own head.

Iroh is left to stare at a white door with cracks along the edges from countless other slams.

Then in the most dramatic Zuko-like fashion, he immediately throws the door open again, “Uncle!”

He’s surprised to find his uncle still standing there, staring at him in shock from the other side of the door frame, as if there had been enough time for him to process the opening and shutting of doors from his temperamental nephew.

“Oh- sorry. Do you-“ He scratches his head, the pain in his knee clouding his thoughts enough to keep him from wondering whether this is a normal conversation or not, “Do you think I’m a good singer?”

Iroh just stares at him. After a few seconds, he can’t help but let out a hearty chuckle. What an outrageous question from such a royal outburst. Zuko doesn’t seem to notice.

Iroh speaks in the most sincere tone he can muster, “But of course. I’ve always held your singing abilities in such high regard. You know, you used to sing with me all the time when you were but a child. I don’t know why you ever stopped.”

“Yes, Uncle. I can recall.”

Iroh had never been the type to shy away from the spotlight. At every family gathering he found some way to get the nieces and nephews together to sing some long-forgotten tune with him. Even after the other kids got tired and their attention was pulled elsewhere, Zuko would sit on his uncle’s lap and sing with him at the expense of getting questionable stares from his relatives. Zuko didn’t care, though. Having fun in spite of others, it seemed, was a much easier task when he was a kid.

“Why do you ask, my dear nephew?”

“Just wondering.” But Zuko is lost in some other time, some other place.

Iroh silently nods, placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, an attempt to bring him back to their home. “A beautiful voice, indeed.”

He bows his head at Zuko and places his hand on the doorknob. His old hand, wrinkled from years of work and leisure, pulls the door closed behind him, leaving Zuko this time, to stare at a white door in front of him.

* * *

The next day goes on pretty seamlessly.

Iroh has to go out to buy supplies to restock the store, so Zuko takes the evening shift in place of him. After a night of rest and some heavy painkillers, Zuko’s leg feels slightly better.

At work, Zuko has to pretend he doesn’t notice how silent his phone has become in the absence of yesterday’s frequent texts, though he is constantly reminded with every lull in customers.

When the day is finally over, Jin begs Zuko to tell her more about this mysterious Sokka.

“Let it go, Jin.” From Zuko’s muted tone, she can see that something is amiss.

“I just don’t get it, yesterday you were so excited? Did something happen? Does he have a girlfriend?” the corners of her mouth move down in a frown for Zuko.

“He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Then what is it?”

“Who cares? It was never going to happen anyway, Jin. Just leave it.”

Jin’s frown grows deeper, this time in disdain for Zuko’s unpleasant attitude.

“I mean, if you say so.”

Zuko hears the windchimes of the front door jingle, “We’re closed!” He calls out loudly behind him to the customer. Sometimes customers were so dense, can’t even read the sign outside saying closed.

 _Idiots_ …

When Zuko looks at Jin for a sympathetic, “Ugh, can you believe these people” stare, what he see’s instead is Jin gripping the counter, presumably so that she won’t spontaneously combust from excitement. Zuko turns to see what could possibly garner this reaction. And to his surprise, standing right at the door with a huge smile on his face is none other than the boy who has been the center of their conversations for the past two days.

“Hey to you too, Zu!”

Jin looks like she’s about to lose it.

Apparently, Sokka has a thing for showing up to tea shops past service hours.

Jin, smiling widely, suddenly yelps, “Hey! Zuko, I forgot to tell you I have to leave early again tonight! Gotta, uhh, make dinner for the kiddos? Yeah!”

“You said that yesterday?” Zuko eyes her suspiciously.

“Yup, look at you so perceptive! Gosh, that’s why you make the big bucks!” She elbows him in the shoulder, already moving to grab her possessions. “Anyways, goodnight Zuko, see you tomorrow! Goodbye Zuko’s friend!”

“It’s Sokka!” He calls to her.

Jin lets the slightest squeal escape her lips on her way out. “Right, cool, Sokka! See ya later!” and before anyone can say a single word she has cleared the door and made a beeline for her car.

Sokka watches as she leaves, scratching his head. “Ha? She’s uhh, an eccentric one, huh?

Zuko laughs nervously, “Yeah, she can be.” Oh, she was going to get an earful from Zuko tomorrow for being so painfully obvious. He would make sure of it.

“Anyway,” Zuko says shaking off the confusion that Jin has surely brought on for the both of them, “What can I do you for?”

“How about a cup of Jasmine? For the road.” Sokka’s eyes are looking around the shop, taking in every nook and cranny.

However nervous this makes him, Zuko nods and grabs the kettle behind him, pouring Sokka a cup of tea. From years under the instruction of his uncle, he knows to add a swig of milk and brown sugar while the tea is still hot so that the flavors can blend together smoothly.

Sokka is still walking around the shop, looking at the various photographs framing the walls. Zuko puts the tea cup down at a nearby table, he hopes that Sokka can’t tell his hands are shaking.

Sokka stops at a particularly sun bleached photo, “Who are these kids?”

Zuko doesn’t even have to peer past him to know which picture he’s talking about. He’s had it memorized from years spent glossing his eyes over the shop. It’s an old photograph of him at age 7, his younger sister Azula age 5, and his cousin Lu Ten age 11, all sitting around a sand castle they had built on a vacation at the beach.

“That one on the left is me-“

“Wait, really?” Sokka steps closer to the picture to get a better look.

“Yeah, kinda hard to recognize without the scar, I know.”

“Oh, that’s not what I-“ Sokka looks down, “Who are the other kids?”

“My sister and my cousin Lu Ten.”

“Ah,” Sokka turns around to face Zuko, leaning back against the wall the photo sits on, “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“She lives with my dad. We don’t really talk much.”

Sokka narrows his eyes at Zuko as if he’s trying but failing to read him. He pushes himself off the wall with his foot and sits at the table Zuko left his tea at.

Zuko unsure of what to do with himself, grabs a rag to finish cleaning the counter.

After his first sip Sokka lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Holy shit, man? This stuff’s good! What’d you put in it? Crack?”

Zuko laughs, “My uncle’s old recipe.”

Sokka nods, taking another sip, “What’s your favorite part about working here?”

Zuko doesn’t hesitate, “Closing.”

Sokka nearly chokes on his tea from the snort he lets out, “I take it you’re not as passionate about tea as your dear old uncle.”

Zuko shrugs plainly, “Not exactly.”

“So, Zu, what _are_ you passionate about?”

There’s that nickname again. He was never a fan of nicknames, the only one that had ever stuck was his sister’s annoying, “Zuzu” but something about the way Sokka said the single syllable like they were lifelong friends just might have the potential of changing Zuko’s mind about them forever.

“Hmm.” Zuko stops his cleaning to ponder for a bit, “I guess I don’t really know.”

Sensing that that’s probably a lame answer, Zuko pipes up again shortly after, “What about you?”

“Music. For sure.”

“What’s your favorite part of playing music?”

“The feeling it gives you. And others too. It’s like…” Sokka laughs softly, “It’s like that stupid quote that mom’s spread on Facebook in front of a stock photo of some generic concert scene, ‘you can sing at people for 1 reason and they’ll sing back you for 100 different ones.’ As cringey as it sounds, it does have some truth to it.”

Zuko smiles along with him, remembering all the people in the crowd two nights ago. They seemed so passionate about the music too. He recalls the two girls who stood next to him and how they knew every word to their set. Who knew why they were singing so loud? It had never occurred to Zuko before then that it mattered.

Sokka takes another long swig of tea, finishing off the cup. “Thanks for the cup of tea, buddy.” He looks at Zuko thoughtfully, “How’s the leg?”

Zuko looks down, a fresh blush rising to his cheeks at the thought of last night’s unfortunate display. The dark purple bruises running along the side of his hip to the front of his knee are not visible behind his jeans, but he must admit that every step is a little uncomfortable especially after a long day at the shop.

“Okay.” Is all Zuko manages.

“Well, I don’t want you hurting yourself on your way back to your place. I’ll walk you home.”

“That’s really okay, Sokka-“

“Seriously, I insist.”

Gosh, what is with these people and bringing Zuko home all the time? He was starting to feel like a little kid in need of constant watch at this point. But it was a nice gesture, and he was enjoying this casual conversation with Sokka.

Zuko sighs in visible resignation, “Okay. Just let me lock up.”

Sokka waits outside as Zuko finishes up the last of the closing duties. He checks the register to make sure it’s locked. He turns off all the lights. Finally, he locks the front door and joins Sokka outside.

“After you, maestro.” Sokka motions for Zuko to lead the way.

Zuko starts to walk in the direction of his uncle’s home, Sokka matches his stride beside him.

“So, Zuko… Why did you tell us you didn’t sing the other night?”

Zuko has to focus really hard to keep putting each foot in front of the other instead of stopping and folding in on himself.

“I really don’t, not in front of people. That’s what I meant I guess.” Zuko shoves his hands deep into his pockets.

“What could get you to change that?”

“Nothing.” Zuko looks up at Sokka who is eyeing him generously.

“Not even-“ Sokka begins.

Zuko interrupts him. “Sokka, no. I really don’t-“

“You’re so good though?” Sokka interrupts right back. “You can’t just keep that kind of talent bottled up.” He continues, “And between you and me, you do have a great stage presence, even if the crowd only consisted of a mop and a few buckets.”

Zuko cringes. He chooses to be honest with Sokka, “That was uhh, really embarrassing for me, you know that right?”

Sokka tilts his head at Zuko, “I can’t possibly reason why? The whole thing was impressive, down to the dance moves.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything, just continues to walk beside him.

“I mean it.” Says Sokka.

“Thanks.” Zuko replies, but it’s empty sounding.

They’ve reached the edge of Zuko’s driveway. When they both stop, Sokka stands directly in front of Zuko.

“Look, how about I strike a deal with you. Just come to one practice, alright? See how you like it, and if you find the whole thing absolutely dreadful you have my full permission to block my number and I’ll never step foot in the Jasmine Dragon again.” Sokka peers at Zuko, “Plus, if you do, I won’t tell everyone about the major tumble you took last night in front of Suki and I.” his tone is playful at this point, but there’s a twinge of hope in his unfailing eyes.

Zuko stares at his scuffed boots on the cracked concrete.

I mean, how could he say no? Sokka had come all this way to walk him home, to have a decent conversation with him, to make sure he was okay.

“One practice?” Zuko asks reluctantly.

The sudden twinkle in Sokka’s bright blue eyes underneath the perfectly placed streetlamps is infuriatingly distracting.

“One practice. That’s it. Then you never have to see my stupid face again if you don’t want to.”

Zuko looks past Sokka into the night beyond them.

He closes his eyes and ignores the reluctance that has settled in his bones, “Okay… okay, I’ll do it.”

Sokka whoops in excitement.

“BUT, only because you’ve blackmailed me.” Zuko lets off a small smile.

“Noted.” Sokka winks at him, causing something in Zuko’s stomach to briefly cinch. “Anyway,” Sokka checks his watch and his eyes widen in surprise, “Shoot! I should probably get back, glad the legs alright. I’ll see you at practice.” He turns around and starts a light jog in the direction opposite of Zuko.

“Wait, how will I know what time and stuff?” Zuko calls after him.

Sokka doesn’t look back, just waves a hand back at him, “I’ll text you! Later, Zu!” and he disappears off into the night.

Zuko’s glad that Sokka can’t see him watching his form get smaller as he strides along the empty street disappearing between the illumination of streetlights. He can’t really bring himself to look away until Sokka’s rounded the street corner, but he almost swears that Sokka brings his hand into a fist and pumps the air as if in triumph as he does.

Zuko smiles. He really _really_ hopes the gesture is because of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Suki listens to Girl in Red and Zuko has no idea what that means.  
> haha, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It was so fun to write/imagine Zuko having his own concert he thought no one could see.
> 
> Let me know if you're enjoying and as always follow me on tumblr if u want updates/wanna be friends @flowerpotpudding


	3. hollow lies

The businesses that he passes along the sidewalk on his way to his shift at the shop have changed over the years. When Zuko first arrived at his Uncle’s place, there was a donut shop next door. The next year they sold it to some real estate agent. The next, a flower shop. 

It’s funny how things change so drastically from one year to the next but don’t seem to change at all day by day. 

After all, Zuko spent every day up to this point living in monotony. Dragging through the same motions over and over again until the days seemed doomed for a constant state of torpor. Yet, as he was now looking back on these shops, and the people within them, Zuko realizes that none of it was monotonous at all. Every person who had walked into the shop had given rise to a stir in his life, however small. No wonder Iroh was always picking at the brains of the customers that walked in and out of their shop. They all had something to say…

So, Zuko wonders, how had he managed not to notice any of this? How long had he been living in subdued complacency?

And how could one boy with a knack for the bass guitar make him question living like that?

A text notification interrupts Zuko’s thoughts.

**Sokka**

_You ready for tonight? ;)_

Speak of the devil.

Zuko stares at his phone with an expression that one could only call silent disarray.

No. Zuko was not in fact ready to sing in front of the entirety of The Elements tonight.

**Zuko**

_Yeah! Haha. Can’t wait._

Zuko shoves his phone deep into his pocket and walks into the shop for work.

Every shift at the Jasmine Dragon since Zuko and Sokka’s talk a couple nights ago is pretty much the same. Zuko takes orders and sends them to the back. Sometimes, to Iroh’s surprise, he takes extra care to make sure that these orders have been received correctly. In actuality, he’s sneaking back there to check his phone and send texts to Sokka, but Iroh pretends not to notice his nephew’s new habit.

He doesn’t even comment on the whispers and giggles that Jin and Zuko exchange between their shift changes. It does take him quite a lot of effort though.

Sokka is an excellent texter. He never lets a conversation get boring and his responses are prompt enough to where conversations don’t die off either. He’s taken to texting Zuko random questions throughout the day. “To get to know the newest temporary member of the band!” He says. Zuko doesn’t mind it one bit.

In fact, he smiles as he walks to the back during a particularly slow hour and finds a text waiting for him.

**Sokka**

_URGENT: If I were a type of pasta, what type would I be?_

Zuko laughs at the absurdity of this question, but decides to humor him anyway in his response.

**Zuko**

_I_ _’m thinking Lasagna?_

Text bubbles pop up immediately.

**Sokka**

_DAMN IT. I want to be those little shells so bAD. No one will indulge me!!!_

Another text comes in.

**Sokka**

_Also, Aang says you’re angel hair._

And another.

**Sokka**

_I have to agree._

Zuko smiles. Both at Sokka’s chaotic texting style and the fact that it seems the band does really like him from their brief encounter. Hopefully Sokka was putting in a good word for him as well.

Sokka sends yet another text, catching Zuko by surprise.

**Sokka**

_Also, I’ll go grab you from the Jasmine Dragon so I can show you where we practice. What time do you get off?_

This would make the 3rd time Sokka has been to the shop for Zuko. Not that Zuko’s complaining.

**Zuko**

_It’s Sunday, so we close early. I’ll be out by 8._

Sokka responds immediately.

**Sokka**

_Cool. See you soon, Zu._

Yeah, he thinks, see you soon.

And for the rest of the shift he tries not to question whether he’s made a terrible, terrible decision.

* * *

After a long day of taking orders and losing himself in thoughts of tonight, Zuko is finally starting his closing duties.

He begins by sweeping the floor and putting the chairs on top of the tables. Then he grabs a rag and begins scrubbing the surfaces of the kitchen until he can make his way around to the counter in the front of the shop.

The smell of orange multi-purpose cleaner is pungent as always. There will probably never be a time in his life that he’s able to smell the fresh orange scent at any business and not think of long nights by himself at the shop. He’s suddenly sad at the thought. Zuko only had a year and a half of college left, then he could move out, get a job like he always wanted to, like he had been dreaming of since he turned 14 and was forced to live with his Uncle. But for some reason, tonight that thought just doesn’t sit as well as it used to. The sweet promises of freedom tasting almost bitter on his tongue.

Just as Zuko finishes scrubbing the counter and flips his hair out of his face, the twinkle of windchimes fills the room, “Hey! Just in time, now we can h-“

“Wait.” Sokka sounds mildly annoyed as he interrupts Zuko to vigorously search through his backpack. When he lands on what he’s been looking for, his face lights up.

“Here, put this on. Please, it’s killing me to watch you flip your hair out of your face every time I come around.” In his hand he’s holding up a black hair tie.

Zuko looks at him shaking his head in a confused fashion, “I don’t…?” He’s never used one before. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

Sokka rolls his eyes, “Ugh, just- hold on.”

Sokka looks around the shop briefly before he jogs up to a chair and drags it in front of one of the larger windows. In the dark, it acts as a very nice mirror. Sokka looks briefly pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. Then, without hesitation he guides a shocked Zuko to the chair and pushes him down into it by his shoulders.

“Okay, let’s figure this out here. Before Katara got old enough to do her own hair, I used to do it for her.”

Zuko gives him an uneasy glance.

“Don’t worry! I’m a professional!”

He puts the hair tie between his teeth and starts to run his hands through Zuko’s hair gathering his thoughts.

Zuko is finding it very hard to breath all of a sudden.

“Are we thinking half-up half down?” He says. It’s a little hard to understand as the hair tie is still hanging loosely between his teeth.

He grabs the top half of Zuko’s hair in one hand and smooths out the bottom layer with the other. When he’s got the style he wants he lets his hand rest on Zuko’s rigid shoulder. Almost instinctually he lets a finger trace up his neck to meet his jaw.

_Fuck._

Zuko coughs in gentle surprise at the gesture, swallowing at something that suddenly seems to have caught in his throat. Sokka gives a sly smile in his direction, but continues to stroke Zuko’s hair as his cheeks glow furiously red. He was definitely milking this. And worse, he was having fun doing it.

Moving his hand from Zuko’s neck, leaving the warmth to haunt the area, he grabs the hair tie from his teeth and slips it around his wrist, “You’re right, not for you today. Hmm… let’s try something else.”

After a few more gentle brushes through his hair, he makes a noise of approval to himself and collects Zuko’s hair into one hand and pulls it back into a single ponytail. Sokka looks down at Zuko through the mirror.

“Ehh?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at Zuko.

Zuko’s jaw drops marginally. As much as he wants to, he can’t hold his surprise back, “I think I actually like it?”

It may be a simple loose ponytail, but it was never a style that had really occurred to Zuko. He takes in the slight bangs that have snuck out of Sokka’s hand to frame his face. He follows those hairs back to Sokka’s hand still holding his hair in place. He almost shivers at the sight.

Sokka takes the hair tie from his wrist and begins wrapping it around the hair in his hand.

“Good! Now you don’t have to interrupt every sentence you speak with a brooding hair sweep.”

Zuko laughs.

“Hey, stop moving!”

This only makes Zuko giggle more.

“Look, Zuko, do you want this ponytail to look good or like shit?” Sokka says in an exasperated tone, but he too, is letting off slight chuckles between words.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop.” He’s still smiling softly. He can’t stop watching Sokka methodically winding the ponytail around his hair with one hand and smoothing it back affectionately from the front with the other.

“There!” Sokka steps back from Zuko to let him admire his work in the makeshift mirror.

Zuko nods in approval. He could get used to this. He stands and turns to Sokka with his arms out.

“Do _you_ like it?” it comes out quietly, almost self-consciously, as he bites at the corner of his lip.

Sokka’s eyes have widened ever so slightly, catching Zuko by surprise. It was one thing to see Zuko through the window’s reflection, but standing in front of him in the dim light of the quiet shop, slivers of jet black hair glinting in the fluorescents framing his sharp jaw, this was different. Zuko was ethereal in this dark scene.

Zuko’s gaze shoots downwards, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.

Sokka snaps himself out of his fixed stare.

“Yeah, you- _it_ \- uhh, looks really good.”

When Zuko looks back up, Sokka’s eyes are trained on him. His head is tilted and there’s a curious look on his face.

Before Zuko can begin to wonder what this might mean, Sokka clears his throat.

“Hrmm. Shall we-?”

“Yeah, yeah. We don’t want to be late. Yeah.”

Sokka moves outside to wait for Zuko by the door as he locks up the shop.

Zuko has to pause at the counter before he grabs his things.

What in the _fuck_ was that about?

He shakes his head and looks at the clock. It occurs to him that if they really didn’t want to be late they would have to hurry.

He meets Sokka outside and they begin a brisk walk to band practice.

* * *

The night outside is biting. It had been a crisp Autumn morning, but without the sun, the streets felt cold and damp.

“So uhh, where _do_ you guys practice?” Zuko asks, lightly shaking from the nerves. He hopes it’ll pass off as chills from the frigid night. He’s more than a little anxious. How had he agreed to this?

“Toph’s place. Her parents are like filthy rich, and also never there. So it works out pretty nicely.”

“Hmm.”

Zuko’s hands are wringing themselves in the pocket of his fleece hoodie. Actually, he decides, anxious is an understatement. He is mortified to be singing alongside such talented artists.

Sokka bumps him on the shoulder, “You alright, Zu?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He lies in response.

“Good.” Sokka steals a concerned look in Zuko’s direction, but continues on. “Because you’ve got a big night ahead of you.”

Zuko darts a nervous look towards Sokka, but he’s already wrapping an arm around him and putting on a faux boston accent.

“You know what? You’re gonna go far, kid. You listen to me, you’ve got moxie, alright?” Sokka laughs at his own impression and puts his arm back down by his side.

Zuko laughs along with him, a little surprised at the sudden physical contact, but the mood sufficiently lightened even if the tension in his jaw remains.

“Thanks, Sokka.”

“Anyway, the band is really excited to hear you sing.”

Zuko lets out a pathetic laugh, “Ha. Yeah…”

Sokka frowns at him, “Hey, come on. You’re _really_ good. You shouldn’t be nervous. You’ll blow them all away.”

Zuko lets off a half smile. He doesn’t necessarily agree with the guy, but its nice to have someone believe in him so firmly, even if it is for the sake of completing the band.

Their conversation is interrupted by the appearance of a mansion like structure surrounded by perfectly trimmed shrubbery in the distance. 

Sokka wasn’t kidding. This place was massive. It was at least three stories high and the outer ivy-covered walls stretched what was probably half a mile from the center of the gate they had just arrived at. Zuko has to stand in awe of the towering building for a second as Sokka punches in a gate code.

“Is this…?” Zuko’s jaw is nearly touching his chest.

“Yup, no time to be shocked we gotta go, man.” Sokka places a hand on the small of Zuko’s back to guide him along.

If Zuko weren’t in so much amazement at the surrounding architecture, he probably would’ve gasped at the touch.

When they walk into Toph’s garage, the band is already waiting for them, fiddling with their instruments, barely batting an eye at the newcomer.

There are no cars and the whole space seems to have been repurposed strictly for music playing. The cracked concrete on the floor smells freshly mopped.

Aang is the first to speak, in his constant upbeat way, “Hey, Zuko! Long time no see! Glad you decided to join the band!”

Katara quickly stands up and puts a hand on his shoulder, “He’s not joining the band, Aang, remember?” Zuko can tell she’s gritting her teeth, “He’s just helping us out with this one gig.” She sends an uneasy smile at Sokka who is looking at Aang in irritation.

“Anyway,” Sokka draws out, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Band, Zuko, Zuko, Band. We all know each other, no need for introductions, let’s just get right to it then?”

He looks at Zuko. “So, Zu. You can just grab the mic and we’ll walk you through everything.”

Katara hands him a lyric sheet from Sokka’s bag.

“This is our first song,” she starts “you probably remember it from the show a couple nights ago. Our set should be exactly the same as the last, so nothing should be too unfamiliar.” She gives him a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder.

Zuko tries his best to swallow down the nervousness that has built up in his throat.

Toph pipes up from behind her drum kit and points at Zuko, “Yeah, pretty boy, we made it extra easy for you, so don’t fuck it up, alright?”

Everyone laughs at this. Zuko manages a light chortle, but he finds himself clutching the lyric paper until its wrinkled at the sides.

“Okay, Zuko. We’re going to play the song for you first, I’ll sing along with it and then you can join in the second time. Sound okay?” Katara announces.

Zuko, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, nods his head. There’s a feeling of uneasy itchiness all over his body. It runs so deep that even if he scrubbed his skin raw he’s sure the discomfort would remain.

“Alright, Toph. Count us off!” Katara shoots behind her.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Toph yells. But she’s already rhythmically hitting her drum sticks together.

_One… two… three… four..._

Then a familiar song floods the room.

Zuko remembers the song vividly. It was their opener. Their most popular song by far.

The recognizable words hang in the air and cloud Zuko’s mind.

_I hate the way you made me think I was falling in love with you._

He sneaks a look at Sokka, completely engrossed in the bass line he was strumming. Some hair has fallen out of his top knot and has stuck to his temple where sweat has begun to acquire.

He recalls Sokka putting his own hair in a ponytail just a while before and feels something deep in his stomach catch.

 _Fitting lyrics_ , Zuko thinks, then he’s back to studying the words on the page with desperate intensity.

When the band finishes the song, Aang jumps up from his seat on the floor and claps. Zuko, who has been sitting beside him with the lyrics in hand lets out a laugh and claps along with him.

“That was great, guys! Loved the energy! Katara, maybe you could work a little on your power chords, they sounded a bit messy?”

Katara narrows her eyes at Aang before turning around in a theatrical huff.

“What? It was constructive criticism! Baby??” Aang hurries over to smooth things over with Katara. Meanwhile Sokka pops a squat next to Zuko.

“So, buddy, how are you feeling?”

“Like I want to run away from here and never come back.” Zuko says under his breath.

“Perfect!” Sokka looks to the rest of the band, “He’s ready!”

Zuko puts a hand over his eyes and sighs. Welp, it’s now or never?

He shuffles up to the microphone stand. When he attempts to put the microphone on it he misses and it slips through his sweaty hands and clatters to the floor with loud screeching feedback coming from the speakers.

“SHIT. Sorry, sorry.” Zuko clamors for the mic and sets it on the stand. He looks up at everyone, clearing his throat and smoothing back the bangs that have fallen from behind his ears, “Hrmm… ready.” He laughs nervously.

Katara gives him an uneasy stare, “Okay… Um, Toph count us off please.”

Toph snorts, and taps her drumsticks together once again.

_One… two… three… four…_

When the song starts Zuko’s mind goes blank. He can see the words on the page clutched in his shaking hand, but he can’t make out where they go in tandem with the music. He must’ve missed the cue because Sokka puts his hand up in the air.

“Hold it, hold it, everybody STOP!” Everyone is looking at Sokka in patient confusion, “Just- take five, everyone.”

Sokka pulls Zuko to the side of the garage. He looks at him with such sincerity that Zuko almost can’t keep eye contact.

“Zuko, I know you’re nervous.” He wraps his hand around Zuko’s wrist and gives a reassuring squeeze, “Just do it like you did at the shop. Just close your eyes and pretend none of us are here. It’s only you, your mop, and your favorite buckets cheering you on like always. Can you do that for me, buddy?”

As much as Zuko’s mind is still reeling, he nods his head.

He can, he promised he would.

When he gets back up to the mic, he clears his throat.

Everyone has put their waters down and have averted their eyes to various places across the room. Katara pretends to be fiddling with her braids, Toph is spinning her drumsticks around, and Suki is staring at her combat boots on the floor… But Sokka, Sokka’s looking right at him, giving him his award-winning smile.

Zuko knows what he should do.

“Toph, give us the count.” He shoots her way.

Zuko closes his eyes and takes a breath, taking a moment to imagine himself, not at the shop, but center stage with none other than the world renowned Elements.

“Watch it, pretty boy.” Toph remarks, but once again she’s hitting her drumsticks together.

_One… two…. three… four…_

To Zuko’s own surprise he clutches the mic and sings, just like he would on those nights alone in the Jasmine Dragon. He doesn’t look back, just keeps his eyes closed the entire time and feels the music. But this time, no one stops him. The bands plays, and Katara harmonizes, and when Zuko dares to open his eyes again Sokka is beaming at him. He can’t help it. Zuko beams right back.

“Yeah, BUDDY! That was awesome!”

Toph looks tastefully shocked.

“Wow, pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you, but I guess Sokka was right, you’ve got pipes.”

Even Suki, who has been awfully quiet this entire band practice is nodding in approval.

Zuko can’t shake the grin that’s become plastered on his face.

“Thanks, guys… that was, uhh, fun.”

“Well the funs, just begun, Zu.” Sokka winks sending waves of something through Zuko. (How the fuck is he so good at that??) “We’ve still got four more songs.”

And that’s exactly what they do. They play four more songs, laughing in between, until Zuko starts to feel like he’s really, _really_ a part of something good.

* * *

As everyone’s clearing the garage and packing up their instruments Sokka punches Zuko in the shoulder, “So superstar, do you want me to walk you home? We could talk about the set a little bit more? Ease your nerves before next Saturday?”

Suki, huffs past them on her way out hitting Zuko hard in the shoulder as she passes.

God, what is with her today?

Zuko debates Sokka’s inquiry. It would be nice to have more free time with him, even if it was purely for band reasons (right?), but by the way Suki has just pushed passed him, he figures he’s in some deep shit, “Actually, uhh, I’m kind of exhausted tonight, I think I’m gonna ask Suki for a ride? Thanks though!”

Sokka looks confused, maybe even slightly disappointed, but nods his head in a friendly way, “Yeah… sure? See you around?”

“Yeah, uhh text me!” Zuko throws back to him. He’s already running to stop Suki on her way out.

He stops her right in front of her car, “Hey, uhh, you think you could give me a ride?”

Suki looks at him in mild annoyance, “Didn’t think you wanted to talk to me after the way you treated me the last time I gave you a ride?”

Oh, _that’s_ what this is about.

Zuko winces as he recalls his poor behavior from a couple nights ago. He didn’t mean to be so abrasive.

“Look, I was in pain. I was embarrassed. I’m sorry, okay?” He really was. It was written all over his face.

Suki closes her eyes, obviously debating leaving his ass to walk home.

But if there’s one thing Suki is, it’s reliable. Even for stupid jerks like Zuko.

“Fine, I’ll give you a ride.”

He smiles, “Thanks, Suki.”

She doesn’t say anything, just walks ahead of him and unlocks her car doors.

Once they’re both inside, Suki moves to turn the volume up on her radio to drown out the anticipated silence, but Zuko knows he should say something.

Before he can think of anything competent, he blurts out the only thing on his mind, “How did you know I liked Sokka the other night?” it comes out all in one breath and Zuko immediately regrets it.

Suki snorts, putting the car into drive and heading out, “Are you kidding? You’re painfully obvious sometimes.”

“What? I’m not-“

Suki looks directly at Zuko, “Oh please, if I couldn’t tell by the way you can’t tear your eyes off of him whenever he plays, it would probably be because of the way you blush whenever he gets within arms length.”

Zuko’s cheeks begins to bloom red even as he wills the very opposite with every fiber of his being.

Zuko struggles to come up with a response, “Well, what, uhh, what do you think I should do about it- err- him?”

Suki’s previous air of seriousness is starting to melt away as she lets off a loose grin, and for that Zuko is grateful. Whatever he was doing, it was at least helping her anger towards him.

“Great strategy, Zuko. Go straight to the best friend. I would’ve done the same.” She nudges him in the shoulder, “Well, I know you guys have been texting…”

Zuko blushes even deeper. Suki seems to find amusement in this.

“So ask him to hang out? Just the two of you. You know a little date!”

Zuko goes completely stiff in the passenger seat.

“I can’t ask him on a DATE?” Zuko hastily crosses his arms over his chest. No. There was no way.

“Fine, fine!” She puts her hands up in mock surrender, “Just to hang out, then. It doesn’t have to explicitly be a _date_.”

She says the next part under her breath, “ _even though the rest of us will know it is…_ ”

Zuko huffs, ignoring her comment, “What would we even do?”

He was genuinely interested in the answer to this question. While he had been on a couple dates before, they had never really panned out. They were all too boring or too fake or too annoying. Nothing like Sokka…

Fuck. Did he really just think that? He rolls his eyes at himself. _Gross._

“Well, Sokka loves the outdoors. Maybe you could invite him to go for a walk or something?”

Zuko ponders this. He also loves walks. Plus, just talking and getting to know each other has been really nice over the last couple of nights. “Yeah… yeah, that could work?”

“I think it would too.” And she smiles.

The silence that follows is not an awkward one, but airs more on the comfortable side. This time, on her own will, Suki turns up the volume on her radio. She sings along to every word until they arrive at Iroh’s house.

Before leaving, Zuko turns to Suki earnestly, “Thanks for the ride, Suki… and the, y’know, advice.” He starts rubbing the back of his neck.

Suki puts a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, “You’re welcome. I’ll make sure to tell Sokka all about our planning sesh.”

Zuko’s eyes go wider than she’s ever seen them.

“I’m KIDDING! Haha, lighten up, Zuko.”

Zuko’s shoulders drop in relief as he smiles nervously, “Yeah... thanks, Suki.”

She gives him one more sideways glance, “Oh, I forgive you by the way… for the other night.”

Zuko finds himself comforted by this. He didn’t know why it was bothering him so much, but he’s glad the car ride worked to resolve their dispute.

“BUT, don’t think for a second I won’t kick your ass if you _ever_ talk to me like that again, alright?”

Zuko nods his head quickly. He didn’t even need to know about her martial arts expertise to know he should be intimidated by her. The way she carried herself was enough.

She smiles again. “Cool. Bye, Zuko.”

Zuko raises his hand in a wave before closing her door. Just before it shuts all the way, a text notification sounds from the phone in his back pocket.

Suki rolls down her window as the car begins to inch forward, “Tell Sokka I say hello!” And with that she drives off.

* * *

Zuko’s eyes are glued to his phone as he walks in, texting Sokka in the same fashion he has been over the last couple of days. He doesn’t even notice Iroh step in front of him as the door closes.

Before Zuko can look up, Iroh grabs the phone from Zuko’s hands in one swift motion.

“HEY-?”

“Zuko, sit. We need to have a talk.” Iroh sounds serious, strained almost. He motions to an empty kitchen chair.

“What is this, some kind of intervention?” Zuko scoffs “Uncle, give me my phone back.” He reaches for the phone but is met with Iroh’s tense stare.

Zuko decides to sit in the chair laid out for him. 

When Iroh starts to speak, the words sound heavy all around them, “Zuko, I haven’t been able to speak to you. You’ve been so busy with...” he looks Zuko up and down sympathetically. “Whatever it is you’ve been doing...”

Zuko rolls his eyes, “Is that what this is about? It’s nothing of concern, uncle. I would tell you if I was in trouble.” 

“I know you would, nephew. But I do get concerned when you’re out almost every night doing who knows what...”

“Uncle, look I-“ Zuko starts, but he’s unable to finish. He didn’t even know where to begin. It’s not like he could go right out and tell him he joined a band, right?

But when Zuko’s eyes meet his uncle’s and he see’s the weariness in them, he’s unable to come up with a lie to cover his recent escapades. His uncle is only getting older as it is. All his life while working for his uncle he has tried, and albeit failed, to be something Iroh doesn’t have to worry about. The thought occurs to him, maybe if he’s honest he can finally do just that.

Iroh interjects his thoughts, “Zuko, you don’t have to tell me. I actually called you here because-“

“No, uncle, you deserve the truth. I’m sorry I’ve been worrying you…” He takes a moment to decide how he wants to start this story, “Do you- do you remember the band I went to go see the other night?”

Iroh nods is head slowly, unsure of where this conversation is going.

“Well, I ended up meeting them after the show and after many,” he swallows, hard, “ _many_ mishaps, it turns out that they needed a lead singer and asked me to step in.” Zuko looks up at Iroh, something panicky entering his voice. “It’s really sudden and I’m still kinda working it all out, but that’s where I’ve been, and who I’ve been texting, and all that.”

“Oh…” Iroh strokes his beard with one hand and leaves the other to rest on his hip.

From where he’s standing, Zuko can smell the hint of jasmine that always seems to cling to his robe from a day at the shop.

“I see, nephew.” Iroh appears to be thinking long and hard about what he’s about to say, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening in contemplation. Though, when he finally looks up at Zuko, he only smiles, whatever worry in his face from previously melting away. “I’m so glad you have found community in such a wonderful way.” He lets out a light sigh, “I must say though, it _is_ surprising.”

Zuko laughs, “Yeah… yeah, for me too, Uncle.”

Iroh begins to look at Zuko with a face he’s unable to read.

The face doesn’t leave as he pats Zuko on the shoulder and begins to walk away, “I always told you you could sing.” And then he sits at the other side of the kitchen table where a half-empty cup of tea awaits him.

It really does feel good to be honest, Zuko thinks to himself, extremely pleased with the conversation he’s just had. He finally doesn’t have to worry about being a burden to his uncle for not telling him his whereabouts.

When he gets to the top of the stairwell he decides to take a brief look back down to the kitchen, he can’t help but notice his uncle looking into his now finished tea cup with a peculiar face. Its almost like he’s disappointed. It’s impossible to pin down, but Zuko thinks it must just be his uncle lost in thoughts like always. He shrugs it off and heads to his room to go to sleep excited to wake up and get ready for more practice with the band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg sorry this chapter is so late, just moved apartments LOL
> 
> also the ponytail scene was soooo self indulgent I was literally screaming as I wrote it I love soft Sokka and Zuko so much ughhhhhhdjskjfkhdsgfh
> 
> anyway thanks for reading, literally did not think this would get any attention at all so this is wild :,)  
> comments are my lifeblood so leave one if you have anything to say haha I'd love to hear from y'all
> 
> NEW CHAPTER ON ITS WAY!! School started up again and I'm drowning in it but we are working on it and it should be out in a few days :) (1/28/21)


	4. forget me nots & second thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 4 FINALLY UP HELL YEAH!! School was kicking my ass but we should be back to a somewhat weekly schedule LOL

Zuko lies awake in his room letting light from headlights that pass his window create dark shadows across his field of vision.

The past few days have been a blur. If he’s not working at the shop or at school, he’s at band practice. To help with his newfound absences, Jin has begun to take some of his late shifts in exchange for regular updates on his situation. To his dismay, Iroh takes the others. He swears he doesn’t mind, but Zuko knows that its not the most ideal of situations.

Meanwhile, Zuko wastes no time in getting to know Sokka through what seems to be an endless stream of texts. Zuko now knows that Sokka, Suki, Aang, and Katara all go to the state university in the city and Toph is a senior at a high school nearby. Him and Sokka bond over their mutual love for Physics and Literature. Sokka doesn’t even bat an eye when he finds out Zuko goes to the local community college.

Late into the night after band practices Zuko lies in his bed waiting for his phone screen to light up the room and smiles as Sokka tells him another story of his past. It wasn’t crazy, and Zuko still didn’t know if Sokka was just being friendly or not, but it was nice. It was nice to have someone to talk to all day without feeling like a burden. It was nice for notifications to make him feel giddy before he ever even opened them.

Like clockwork, his phone buzzes beneath him.

**Sokka**

_You ever go outside and just like really enjoy it?_

**Zuko**

_I guess sometimes._

**Sokka**

_You GUESS? Sometimes?? Dude we need to get you outside more often._

_How about you come with me to the park in town?_

_There’s a nice lake, we can bring some food?_

Zuko stares at the texts on his phone. He has to pause for a moment to calm his ever quickening heartrate.

Is this…? Is this Sokka’s idea of asking him on a date? He had already been thinking about inviting him over to hang out just the two of them ever since that conversation with Suki, but hell, if Sokka wanted to do it, so be it.

Even so, Zuko can’t _really_ be sure that this is necessarily a date. Maybe they’re just going on a friend picnic, right? That’s a thing people do? _Ugh._

**Zuko**

_Yeah, that sounds cool._

_Let’s do it._

He closes his phone and stares up at his ceiling once more. Letting himself softly go over the words he would be singing tomorrow in front of an actual live crowd. Zuko has spent every shower, every closing shift, every walk home from school or work going through the lyrics in his mind. He’s got to get this right.

Not that its been that much of a struggle. He does genuinely like the music. He often finds himself absentmindedly humming their melodies as he’s serving customers throughout the day.

He smiles. What a batshit turn of events? To think that just a week ago his only vices were escaping into books he checked out from the campus library and taking walks listening to the Descendents way too late at night.

Now he was undoubtedly a part of something. Something that genuinely brought people joy. He didn’t always understand every inside joke or reference that the band made to each other at practice, but when they did poke fun at him, they made their own new jokes for Zuko to be in on.

It was good. This was good.

Zuko yawns. It was pretty late and he needed all the rest he could get before their final practice and the gig tomorrow.

Before he can pinch himself awake from this dream he’s found himself in, he settles into thoughts of what sitting by a lake with Sokka must be like. He drifts off before he can remember to be cautious about letting himself fall completely into self-indulgent fantasies.

* * *

This time when Zuko punches in the passcode to Toph’s gate and heads to the garage, he is surprised to find only Sokka there surrounded by a sea of papers. His hair flying out of his top-knot in places where he’s picked at it while deep in thought.

“Oh!” He says as if not expecting him at the time that he clearly asked Zuko to be there, “Hey, Zu.”

Zuko looks at him expectantly, “Where is everyone?”

“Well, Katara and Aang are just getting back from a morning at the beach, Suki’s at martial arts practice, Toph’s at wrestling practice, and I’m here.” He lets off a toothy grin.

Zuko furrows his brow at Sokka, he knows that this is not what he meant, “Okay…” he says slowly, “so why am I here?”

“Well when a mommy and a daddy love each other veeeeery much they-“

“SOKKA!”

“Alright, alright, we pushed practice back an hour…” He looks up to see a still confused Zuko glaring at him, “but _I_ didn’t have anything to do so I thought I would just refrain from telling you and you would just show up and we could practice some songs?” He shrugs, “Our gig is coming up here soon and you need all the practice you can get-”

Zuko looks down, admittedly a little hurt at what those words might suggest.

Sokka looks up to see Zuko and immediately back pedals, “Oh no. NO. Not like that! I mean, I know you were nervous and practice makes me feel less nervous, like uhh, like I’ve got it down! I didn’t mean it like that I swear I-“

Upon realizing the genuine nature of this mistake, Zuko rolls his eyes, interrupting Sokka’s breakdown with a gentle laugh. 

“Hey man, it’s okay.”

Sokka’s eyes still contain a hint of wild regret when he clears his throat, “Good. Uh we can get started then. I’ve got the music for this show around here somewhere let’s see uhh-“

As Sokka rummages through some papers around him, Zuko can’t help himself, he takes a seat on the floor and asks, “Why so many papers, Sokka? What is this? You look like those people on hoarders.”

“Oh,” Sokka replies “uhh, these are lyric sheets. I write the songs we play in my free time, but I’m not really that good...” He rubs his neck and looks around him at all the papers that he has scattered about “or very organized?” He looks up at Zuko with a sheepish half smile.

Zuko shakes his head in disbelief, “Seriously? YOU wrote those lyrics?” Thinking about it now, it all made sense. Sokka was able to connect with the music on stage so wholeheartedly because they were _his_ songs. How had that not occurred to him?

Now it was Sokka’s turn to be somewhat offended.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “What you don’t think I can write songs cause I’m just a bass player? Well I’ll have you know th-“

“No! That’s not what I meant at all, I just meant… They’re really good, I mean. I like your songs a lot. I relate to the lyrics a lot of the time. I think that’s why the singing comes so easily to me with them.” Zuko can’t help the admiration from showing in his voice.

Likewise, Sokka can’t help the subsequent confidence boost.

“Really? You think that? I mean you know it’s nothing crazy, just write what I feel when I feel it, all in a day’s work.” He shrugs his shoulders, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips even after he’s done talking. 

Zuko rolls his eyes once again and Sokka punches him playfully in the shoulder.

Surrendering to their brief moment of comradery Zuko adds, “Anyway, got any new ones you can show me?”

He immediately sees the hesitation in the way Sokka stiffens beside him.

Wait, that’s so personal. Fuck. What is wrong with you?

He backpedals immediately. “I mean if you want to. You don’t have to. I don’t need to know if that’s like too personal or something…” His voice trails off at the end obviously hinting at his embarrassment for being so forward.

Sokka’s face of resignation melts into a smile, “I mean, you’re in the band now, zu. What’s my intellectual property is now yours. Here, maybe you can help me out with something.”

Sokka hands him a piece of paper with writing scrawled on half of it, “I’ve been working on this song for weeks and I just can’t get it right, you’re like half an English major right? You can help me out?”

Zuko’s heart jumps at the mention of this small detail he told Sokka in passing one night. He is double majoring in Physics and English, but it was insane to him that Sokka would remember something like that from their many conversations. It wasn’t like Zuko could rattle off every detail of Sokka’s life thus far with encyclopedic precision if someone asked…

Sokka has taken a seat right next to Zuko now, they’re both sitting cross legged and Sokka has sat close enough to where his knee is slightly on top of Zuko’s. He’s peering into the paper Zuko is holding which brings Sokka’s face only inches from his own. 

Zuko’s nearly forgotten the question by the time he remembers to answer. 

“Yeah.” It’s all he can manage before letting himself be consumed in the choppy handwriting for fear of being distracted by the pieces of Sokka’s fly away hairs tickling the side of his face. 

He reads the lyrics carefully,

_maybe we’re meant to be broken_

_maybe I’m meant to be yours_

_maybe you’re already taken_

_but what if I’m at your door?_

He can almost hear Sokka’s voice bringing the song to life. He nods his head at the thought.

“It’s uhh, it’s a work in progress.” Sokka throws in apprehensively.

Sokka, who usually carries himself with an air of confidence that Zuko could only wish to exude, looks almost reserved atop the gray concrete floor at this moment.

Zuko glances up from the paper, “It’s a really good start.”

Sokka’s spirits lift visibly as he smiles, “Thanks, I just need a killer chorus, but the words aren’t really coming to me.”

Zuko, although not wanting to leave this comfortable position, stands up. Pacing. Thinking.

“How about... here give me the paper… and something to write with.”

Sokka hops up and gives him a pencil tucked conveniently behind his ear. 

“Yes! This is so exciting!! I knew you’d be good at writing I just kn-“

“Sokka, shut up! I’m thinking.” Zuko snaps.

Sokka immediately quiets down but even from off the floor Zuko can tell he’s still bounding with excitement. 

Zuko scribbles some words onto the paper, crosses them out and then rewrites them differently. 

He hands the paper to Sokka and returns to his seat beside him, making sure to now have his own knee atop Sokka’s and lean in just enough to pretend to read what he just wrote while maintaining minimal space between their faces. 

Sokka looks at the lyrics intently. He seems to read them over and over. So much so that Zuko gets increasingly anxious. With every breath Zuko can feel escaping Sokka’s chest, he’s sure that Sokka is going to throw the entire song idea away. It’s ruined. He ruined it.

Zuko opens his mouth to probably apologize for the dumpster fire he just put into words, but Sokka jumps up and grabs his bass instead, surprising him. 

Without a word Sokka starts strumming a jazzy tune. And begins to overlay the lyrics.

_maybe we’re meant to be broken_

_maybe I’m meant to be yours_

_maybe you’re already taken_

_but what if I’m at your door?_

_Let me touch you just so you can forget me_

_Your gravity’s just way too much for me_

_Let this song keep your heart from beating_

_I never wanted to be your weekends_

_I never wanted to be your weekends_

The words sound fitting coming out of Sokka’s mouth. By the time he’s sang them, the lyrics sound like an actual song. Not just words reverberating through Zuko’s mind.

Zuko is stoked. With a careful smile, he stands up. He’s trying to gauge how Sokka feels about it. Sokka who is still studying the lyric sheet and fiddling with some chord progressions looks up matching Zuko’s enthusiasm. 

“Man, I think we’ve got ourselves a winner.” He winks at Zuko.

Zuko lets his smile break out fully. He moves over to read the lyrics again over Sokka’s shoulder. 

“I was thinking maybe we could start off with something kind of fast and hard then get more liquidy for the chorus…“ Sokka continues to study the lyric sheet intensely and go on about his hopes for the song with ideas that may or may not work, but Zuko has found himself looking at Sokka himself. 

When the gears are turning in his head it’s quite obvious. His eyebrows furrow, his thumb unconsciously moves to his lips. Zuko’s eyes absentmindedly also move to his lips. 

“Anyway, what do you think?” Sokka turns to look at Zuko. 

Zuko unfortunately has no idea what he’s talking about.

“I uhh,” He stammers.

Sokka turns to the lyrics again “Yeah, yeah, you’re right that would never work... hmm maybe what I had at the beginning was good.” He once again loses himself in thought.

_Thank God._

Before long the members of the band walk in one by one. They complete one final run of the songs before they all pile in Suki and Katara’s cars to drive to the venue for their gig.

* * *

Zuko is a bundle of nerves backstage.

If it weren’t for the presence of the rest of the band, he thinks, he might go insane.

Katara peers at him from across the room, “So… Zuko, you ready for this?”

Zuko manages to nod his head, although he is not entirely confident in the gesture.

Aang beams at him, “You’ll do great, Zuko. I have all the faith in you!”

Zuko’s shoulders ease slightly. If there was one thing Aang was good at, it was being reassuring.

Next to him, Toph punches him hard in the shoulder, “Yeah, pretty boy, don’t be so tense. I can feel your heartbeat from across the room.”

Zuko lets himself laugh with everyone else, but his hands are still shaking when they’re done.

Next to him Suki and Sokka are deep in conversation as she puts some makeup on him.

“What are you guys doing?” Zuko asks, looking for a distraction from his nerves.

“It’s eyeliner, I always do Sokka’s before the show. He’s not very good with makeup.”

“Hey!” Sokka shouts.

“Oh shut up, you know it’s true.” She gives Zuko a sideways glance, “Do you want some?”

Zuko puts his hands up in protest, “I don’t uhh-“

But Suki is already closing the gap between them, “Sure you do! Come on let me try it! If you don’t like it, you can wipe it off.”

Before Zuko can protest any more, Suki’s got one hand on the side of his face and the other gripping a pencil pressed to his eyelid.

When she’s done with his eye she steps back admiring her work.

“Looking good, Zuko!” She remarks, handing him her compact mirror.

Looking himself over, he’s got to admit, he looks pretty damn good. Suki has carefully smudged the bottom liner to give it a more rugged look. If his eyes weren’t piercing before, the defining black lines around them sure did the trick.

With this, and the newfound ponytail hairstyle he’d been trying out for the past week, he looks nothing short of the actual lead singer of a rock band.

Behind him Sokka’s hand lands on his shoulder, “You ready, buddy?”

Zuko swallows at something that seems to have caught in his throat at the question, but turns to face him, “I think so...”

Now fully facing Sokka, he is surprised to find that Sokka is staring, mouth half agape at him.

“What?” Zuko is suddenly more self-conscious than he’s ever been.

Sokka shakes his head, “Your eyes…”

“Oh God, is it bad? I told Suki I didn’t want any-” Zuko brings the compact mirror back up to his face looking frantically for where the flaws Sokka must have found are.

“NO! No! It’s uhh, it’s good. It makes you look like a lead singer, is all. It’s very fitting. Yeah.” Sokka manages to spit out all in one go.

Next to them Katara stifles a laugh, “Oh brother, let’s just get out there, shall we?”

Sokka follows suit with a tight smile towards Zuko.

Right when Zuko’s about to follow, Toph elbows him in the ribs, “Hearts beating pretty fast there, lover boy?”

How the fuck does she do that?

“Lover boy? I thought I was pretty boy?” Zuko calls out to her, thankfully out of earshot from the rest of the band.

Toph just laughs sharply and continues the trek to her drum set.

Out on the stage, the lights make it hard to see through to the crowd. This seems to be a good thing, he didn’t want to be reminded that he was actually being perceived by at least 50 strangers.

Thankfully, Sokka would take the lead on speaking in between songs and introducing new ones. All Zuko had to do was sing. That’s it. Easy.

God, he wanted to throw up so bad right now.

Sokka throws a quick wink his way ( _Sokka, please, I can’t be distracted right now_ ) before beginning his opening monologue, “Good evening, everyone! My name’s Sokka, it’s pronounced with an -okka and ladies and gentlemen, we’re here to rock ya!”

The crowd roars. Here we go.

“We’re so glad to be with you tonight, and we’re even happier to introduce you to our newest member of the band, Zuko!”

For some reason the crowd roars again at this. At- at Zuko?

Zuko waves to a crowd he is unable to look directly at. He keeps his gaze pointed at the horizon of the bar in the back of the venue.

“Without further ado let’s get this thing started, shall we? Toph, hit it!”

Rhythmically Toph bangs her drumsticks together.

_one , two, three, four._

The shredding of Suki’s guitar, the rhythm of the baseline, the bang of the drums. It was all coming together.

One more thing left.

Sing… ZUKO, _SING_!

This time he doesn’t miss his cue, he had practiced it enough times that he could’ve hit the mark in his sleep.

He finds that the more he sings, the more he loosens up. At one point during the show, Suki takes her place next to him and leans her back against his to complete her guitar solo. Katara smiles at him when they hit harmonies and he smiles back.

Is he- is he actually enjoying this?

By the time the last song rolls around, he’s already begun flashy moves in tandem with the lyrics. He sneaks looks at the crowd every once in a while. They’re absolutely entranced. Eyes closed, lyrics flying out of there mouths in breathless screams.

He wants to take a perfect snapshot of this moment. That way he never forgets it.

Then, Zuko goes for his boldest move yet. He grabs at the mic in front of him and takes it from where it sits on the stand. Before he realizes what he’s doing, his body has brought him to stage right. Sokka, as always, is singing the words to himself. The words he had written. Zuko decides that the man deserves to sing his own words for everyone to hear.

As Zuko continues to sing, he puts the microphone between the both of them. Sokka immediately closes the gap between them and sings directly into the microphone with Zuko. It’s only a few lines. Mere seconds in the grand scheme of their entire show, but Zuko swears when Zuko looks back on this night, he’ll remember the warmth of Sokka’s shoulder pressed firmly against his own most fondly.

Finally, as the song comes to a close he looks back on the rest of the band. Everyone, every single one of them looked so… incredible. Sweaty, yet engulfed in pride for their performance. Zuko couldn’t help but marvel at their individual states right then. Katara blowing a kiss directly at Aang in the crowd, Suki waving to their fans, Toph smiling at the sheer amount of noise resounding from the venue, and Sokka… Sokka not looking at the crowd for some reason? Sokka… looking directly at him, smiling. Cheeks stretched so far across his face it must hurt to be smiling so hard. Zuko can’t help it. The world around them melts away and all he can do is smile back.

* * *

“It’s time to celebrate!” Aang has caught up with them backstage and has his arm slung around Katara’s waist.

Everyone is smiling. From what he had observed from the crowd, Aang says everyone there loved the show.

“Even the bouncer was headbanging to the music!” He remarks to everyone’s delight.

In all the excitement, Zuko hadn’t realized that he had neglected to check his phone for the past few hours. On his home screen were various notifications, but the ones that stuck out the most were a series of texts from Iroh.

**Uncle**

_Good luck today._

Zuko smiles. Iroh didn’t know much about the band yet, but even from the little Zuko had told him he had managed to find ways to show he cared.

Underneath that text however, a little more recently, there is another one. One that brings the slightest sense of dread to the pit of Zuko’s stomach.

**Uncle**

_Zuko, please come to the shop tonight if you can._

Zuko puzzles over this for a minute. Iroh wasn’t much for texting in the first place, so it was weird to have even received texts from him in the first place. Zuko reasons that it’s because his uncle knew that Zuko would be away from his phone for a while. Thus, the only realistic way for him to get this information was to physically see it, right? Of course? No need to worry.

But even in his grounded thinking, the unmistakable feeling of something being just the slightest bit off in the world remains.

Zuko clears his throat and looks to the rest of the band who are still excitedly chatting about the performance, “I actually have to go back to the shop really quick. My uncle needs me for something. I can just meet you guys there?”

Sokka chimes in, “I’ll go with, I’ll never say no to a good cup of tea.”

Suki and Katara exchange a look that Zuko doesn’t quite understand.

Suddenly, Aang’s eyes fill with excitement, “OH! OH! Can I come? I love your lavender green tea-“

Katara’s eyes go wide as she jabs Aang in the side with her elbow.

“They can bring us back some tea afterwards! Right, Zuko?” Katara is basically winking at him.

Suki chimes in, “Yeah, yeah! Exactly, you two run along, we’ll wait for you back at the apartment to celebrate!”

As Katara and Suki both loop their arms through Aang’s, Zuko can almost hear him say, “That’s not fair _I_ actually like tea unlike Sokka…”

Katara and Suki both shush him loudly as they drag him away, leaving the two boys to walk out into the night together.

***

The night is just as chilly as it always is this time of year. The air smells of autumn leaves, and the steps of their feet are met with the crunches of dead brown leaves.

Sokka breaks the silence between the two of them, “So, what’s going on at the shop?”

“I actually have no idea,” Zuko states, “It’s a little weird… my Uncle never texts me, let alone something so obscure as ‘meet me at the shop’ with no context.”

“Are you worried?” Sokka asks.

“I can’t really help it.” He admits.

Sokka bumps him with his shoulder reassuringly, “I’m sure he’s fine, Zuko. If it was an emergency he would’ve called you, right? Or let you know through the text?” He laughs, a solid attempt at lightening the mood, “For all we know he could be luring us to a big surprise party to celebrate your first gig!”

“Uncle does love parties…” Zuko remarks dryly.

Sokka finds this response good enough to cease his concerned glances Zuko’s way, “See, nothing to worry about.”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of them as they walk.

Beside him Sokka practically bounces with every step, sending his ponytail bobbing from side to side. It’s how he’s always walked, Zuko notices. With a poise of someone who’s never doubted himself for a second. In that moment, Zuko finds himself wishing he could just reach into the other boy’s mind and figure out what he was thinking. Is this something? Is this anything? He wonders. Is it selfish to be preoccupied by thoughts of Sokka instead of thoughts of his Uncle?

He doesn’t know, but at least he was distracted.

Before long they arrive at the shop.

“Something’s off” Zuko says slowly as he fishes the key out of his pocket. “All the lights are off.”

Sokka remains quiet, there was definitely something eerie about the energy radiating from the building.

When the boys walk in and turn on the lights they are assaulted by a gruesome scene.

“God. What the _hell_ happened in here?”

The shop was a mess. Chairs thrown every which way. Tables visibly pushed aside.

Zuko has turned to stone next to Sokka, his heart having taken root in his throat, making it very hard to breath.

“I’ve got to call my uncle.”

He pushes past Sokka to walk in calculated steps towards the kitchen.

Zuko clutches the kitchen counter as he dials Iroh’s number with uneasy hands. With every empty ring of the line Zuko’s heartrate quickens.

Voicemail.

God, _no._

One more time.

5 rings.

Voicemail.

“ _FUCK.”_

“Everything okay, Zuko?” Sokka has pushed open the curtain separating the front desk area from the kitchen. He’s looking at Zuko with pointed concern.

Zuko looks past Sokka, it is currently his personal mission not to make eye contact with him for fear of hyperventilating, “He’s not picking up.”

Sokka moves towards him. “Hey, look, the text didn’t seem that urgent, right? It was probably just a maintenance thing he couldn’t figure out? Something small. He would’ve told you if something crazy happened.”

When Zuko looks up, Sokka is careful to hide his concern behind a mask of comfort, “You’re right…” He seems to be saying the words out loud, not to communicate anything with Sokka, but in hopes that if he hears them out loud they might become truth.

He plays along with Sokka’s optimism despite the nagging opposition in his mind, “you’re right. This isn’t outside of my Uncle’s eclectic nature. He probably decided to remodel the shop in the late hours of the night and wanted me to come see.”

Sokka eyes him a little uneasily, but nods, “Yeah, exactly, Zuko.”

Surveying the scene around him though, Zuko is defeated.

“You don’t have to stay, Sokka.” He doesn’t want Sokka to leave, but he’s not about to keep him from the celebration back at his place, even more he wasn’t about to bring him into the string of bad luck that seems to follow Zuko wherever he goes.

“Of course I do.” He answers plainly, like it’s the right answer, like he means it.

Zuko shakes his head, he wants to hang on to that certainty forever. He wants to tell Sokka thank you for being such a good person.

Instead he says, “Well, while we wait, I guess I can start to clean this place up a little…” He doesn’t actually want to clean. He doesn’t actually want to do anything. But cleaning is rhythmic and steady and will keep his thoughts from wandering to where his uncle might be.

Sokka clears his throat, “So, you guys really stay this late all the time?” He moves to grab a rag to help Zuko wipe off some tables. He doesn’t like doing nothing while someone else works.

Zuko shakes his head, he’s thankful for the distracting conversation, “Not every night, just some nights. Usually if someone’s putting in these hours it’s me. My uncle’s only getting older and it doesn’t make sense to have him do all this work all the time.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Sokka nods.

On his way to empty the trash Zuko turns off the main lights to the shop. It’s what he does when he’s closing alone. Now the only thing illuminating the room is the light from the menu over head which gives a faint fluorescent glow. It’s nice. Soothing in a weird way. Sokka takes a quiet seat at the table he’s wiping down and takes it all in. He watches as Zuko comes back and scrubs invisible tea stains from the table across him. The light green paint a stark contrast from his monochromatic black ensemble. Sokka notes the way his long hair moves into his face before he shakes it away. He almost smiles.

“You like working here?” he asks.

Zuko scoffs at the question, “Me and this place have a complicated relationship. I like working for my uncle. I owe everything to him. He took me in when I was really young.”

Zuko stops scrubbing for a minute and looks up at the ceiling.

“If it weren’t for that, I’d never work in the service industry. People are ass hats.”

Sokka laughs softly. “You got that right, buddy.”

Zuko looks up at him, his golden eyes meeting with the blue in Sokka’s under the dim lights. “What about you?”

Sokka lets off an uneven smile, “What about me?”

“Anything, just…” His eyes gleam with the slightest hint of worry as he takes in Sokka, “tell me something good.”

“I like hanging out here with you.” The words are easy, but they contain a seriousness that haunts the air around them.

As if pulled by the gravity of the phrase, Zuko unconsciously walks to rescrub the table Sokka is sitting at. Sokka doesn’t move when Zuko leans in to wipe down what’s in front of him. Instead, he looks up and narrows his eyes. 

“I actually already did this table.” Sokka reminds Zuko, putting his hand atop his to cease the scrubbing. 

Zuko freezes obviously caught off guard. He doesn’t dare look up just yet. Just continues to keep his gaze pointed at their two hands, touching, on the old, sun bleached table. 

“Guess I didn’t notice.” But there’s a tease in his voice that’s unmistakable. 

Sokka taps his fingers on the table with his other hand. 

Zuko attempts to move away but Sokka’s got a firm grip on him.

“Oh I see, so you don’t think I did a good job then?” Sokka is piercing holes into the top of Zuko’s head willing him to look up, if even for a second.

“Oh,” Zuko counters, “I know you didn’t do a good job, but I wanted to keep it subtle as to not embarrass you. Guess I couldn’t fool you.” When he’s done talking he finally looks up locking eyes with Sokka.

Piercing blue eyes. The look shared between them electrifying the entire shop.

If Zuko didn’t know any better he’d let himself go completely. Falling deeply and fully into Sokka. He’d do it over and over again if he let him.

They stay like that for a few beats before Sokka breaks the silence. 

“Zuko...” it’s soft, almost a question.

“Yes?”

But Sokka has no words. Just instinctively brings a hand up to push a strand of hair from Zuko’s face. His hand resting on the nape of the other boy’s neck.

Waiting.

The heat from Sokka’s palm radiating through Zuko’s entire body.

Waiting.

The shared gaze between them making it hard to exist in a way that isn’t pressed up against Sokka with his arms holding his waist and his back and his hair and…

Slowly moving in.

_Please._

Eyes closing.

“ _Sokka_ …”

Before they get the chance to move any closer, the sound of windchimes breaks the two boys apart.

Startled, Sokka stands up abruptly knocking back the chair he was sitting on. Zuko quickly follows suit.

Staring right back at them is Iroh.

Zuko is stupefied. The heat in his cheeks being countered by the relief washing over his mind at the sight of his uncle.

“Uncle?” He gasps. “Where were you?”

Iroh looks at the two boys quizzically, “I was taking care of some things-“

Zuko doesn’t let him finish, “What _things_ , Uncle? This place was a mess when we got here, something happened.” By the end of the sentence, he is on the verge of yelling. Zuko needs to know what’s going on.

“Zuko, don’t be so rude. Who is your friend here?” He looks at Sokka, a careful smile plastered on his face, “I don’t think we’ve met?”

All eyes move to Sokka who looks painfully uncomfortable, “Sokka, sir…” He lets off a tiny wave, “but hrmm, I don’t want to intrude, this all sounds really important and all.” He turns to Zuko, “Text me later, ok?” Sokka returns his gaze back to Iroh, but after a few seconds of awkwardly deciding whether a handshake was appropriate, he offers only a small nod before retreating in delicate haste out of the shop.

Zuko sighs.

What the _fuck_ has today turned into?

Iroh brings his attention back to the present, “Zuko, I’m sorry your friend had to leave in such a hurry.” He glances out the window in the direction Sokka had just departed.

“Uncle, just…” He pinches the bridge of his nose in sudden exhaustion, “just tell me what’s going on, what happened in here?”

Iroh turns on the main shop lights once again. In the harsh yellow light Zuko can see just how tired his uncle looks. Whatever is going on, it’s been a long night for the both of them.

“If I may be frank, nephew” he begins “the shop was robbed.”

“It was _what_?” Suddenly the ground seems to fall from beneath him. He has to grab the chair to his right to keep him steady. _Robbed?_

“Zuko, there was nothing we could do. They took the money and they ran with it. The police will be investigating-“

“The police aren’t gonna do SHIT. They probably stole hundreds of dollars-“ He glances wildly at Iroh, “were you hurt?”

“No, Zuko-“

Relief washes over him, but in mere seconds his mind is reeling once again, “God, I can’t believe this?? I… I…”

Zuko’s vision has gone blurry with tears. This wasn’t happening. Uncle, who’s every move in his late life was spent protecting Zuko, was defenseless and Zuko couldn’t do anything to protect him when he needed it most.

He croaks out the only words resounding in his head, “I’m so sorry, Uncle. I’m so sorry.” The words continue even after he’s finished speaking. He’s so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.

“Nephew, you are not responsible for the decision that those four men made to steal from us. You are not responsible for my staying late at the shop. This is not your fault.”

“No. Uncle.” Although Zuko can’t stop his hands from shaking, his voice is firm. “This _is_ my fault. If I hadn’t been involved in this stupid band. If I hadn’t spent so much time messing around I would have been here. I would have closed up the shop before those idiots had time to roll around. I would’ve worked the late shifts, I would’ve closed the shop tonight, I-“

Iroh lays a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. He doesn’t say a word, just looks at Zuko and shakes his head. “Nephew-“

Zuko looks up at his Uncle. The tears have begun to fall. They stream down his face in black streaks. The makeup from earlier washing away with every drop.

Thinking of what he must look like to his uncle in that moment, Zuko can’t stand himself. He can’t stand any of this at all.

“Leave.” Zuko says firmly, head down, eyes glued to the cracks in the tiled floor.

“What?” Iroh steps back from Zuko, surprised at the notion.

Zuko stands up abruptly, he can’t face his Uncle. Can’t face the shame of letting him down for the millionth time. Because this time its not a grade in class, it’s not being scolded from staying out too late. It’s real. The consequences are real and its not just Zuko that is paying the price. Against everything, Iroh was the one who would have to pay for Zuko’s not being there.

Iroh looks defeated. “Let me drive us home, Zuko.”

“I’ll walk. I’ll finish cleaning the shop.”

Iroh looks at him sternly, “There is nothing more to be done, Zuko. The shop won’t be open tomorrow. There is no need to clean it now. Let tomorrow’s trials be left for tomorrow.”

It hurts him to speak, but he does it anyway, “I’ll clean it up. I’ll have it ready for tomorrow. I’ll open. I’ll work all day.”

It was ridiculous to think they’d open up shop tomorrow. There were just too many things that needed to be done. But Zuko won’t let this go. If he doesn’t hold on to this one piece of hope, he might not ever be able to look at his uncle again. He would just remain a piece of collateral damage from the shop’s unfortunate events tonight, forever.

“Zuko-“

Zuko shakes his head, “Just go, Uncle.”

And so he does. Iroh nods his head slowly and turns around.

Zuko can’t help himself from flinching at the sound of the windchimes as his uncle walks out the front door.

* * *

The ceiling above him is white. He’s lost himself in its clarity on more than one occasion.

He doesn’t remember closing the shop after not being able to bring himself to clean, nor does he remember his walk home. All he knows is the cloudiness of guilt that has settled in his mind and the weariness that’s become a permanent fixation in his ribcage.

Below him his phone vibrates.

**Sokka**

_hey, is everything alright?_

_Zuko._

_answer me dude, I’m worried_

Zuko doesn’t even think of replying. All he wants, or rather, all he’s wanted since the moment he finished the conversation with his uncle is to hear Sokka’s voice.

Without much thought he presses the button to dial Sokka’s phone.

Sokka’s answer is nearly immediate.

“Zuko, hey. What’s up?”

The desperation in his voice is being masked by an even tone, but not well.

“Hey, uhh can you talk?”

“Sure, sure, of course. What’s going on, is everything okay?”

Zuko stays quiet on his side of the line. The gentle hiss of phone static sounding comforting in his ears.

“Zuko…”

“Sorry. I just-“ He doesn’t know what to say. Maybe there isn’t anything to say? Zuko shuts his eyes, immediately regretful of making this call. “This was stupid I shouldn’t have called you I-“

“Zuko, stop.” Sokka’s voice is stern. After a few beats, it morphs into something softer, almost pleading, “Look just, tell me what’s wrong.”

Zuko starts slowly, “It’s… the shop.”

“What?”

Then the words come flooding out with no end in sight, “The shop, it- it got robbed tonight. That’s the reason we came back to the whole place trashed. It’s because some fucking thugs broke in and took everything. God, I’ve been so stupid. How could I just leave him to take the night shifts? He can’t do that anymore, he tries but he shouldn’t! And- agh! I’ve just been so-“ Zuko bites his tongue at the word _distracted_ that almost escapes his lips. This isn’t anyone’s fault but his own. “So oblivious. I’m such an idiot, Sokka.”

“Oh Zuko…” he sounds so sincere on the other side of the line, “I’m so sorry.”

Zuko scoffs bitterly, “Don’t be.” _It happens all the time_ , he thinks.

“Can we- the band- can we do anything- to help?” Sokka offers.

God, Zuko only wishes it were that simple. “I don’t think this is one of those things that has an easy solution.” Zuko can’t help himself, so he adds, “If Uncle didn’t have to work so late I would’ve been there. I could’ve stopped them.”

“Zuko, there were more than one of them. Even if the entire band was there, I’m not sure we could’ve taken them.”

He knows he’s right, but that doesn’t change how wrong it felt, “I just… I feel so bad.”

“I get it...” Sokka’s tone reflects a much more thoughtful nature now, “When we were kids and my mom had already passed and it was just my dad, Katara, and I, my dad had to work all the time to make ends meet.” He pauses a little before continuing, “Every time Katara and I would hear a noise outside, I’d almost lose it. Because in the off chance someone did come into our house and my dad wasn’t there, I knew I would have to be the one to protect Katara and I. And sometimes I wondered if I could even do that. The thought of someone hurting Katara was… it’s just too much”

Zuko can basically here Sokka cringe at the thought of anyone hurting his sister.

“The point is,” he continues “I just can’t imagine what it must be like to know your uncle was in that situation. I would be furious too, at those stupid jerks for doing it, and at myself for not being there. But the thing is, Zuko, holding onto that, that rage. It doesn’t do anything for you. Bad things happen to good people all the time. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. It’s just the way the world works, and you can either hold onto that or move on. And watching you let the world pass you by is not something I intend on doing.”

Zuko is rendered completely speechless.

Sokka was right. Holding on to this anger would do nothing to aid the shop. If he really wanted to help his uncle, he would need to swallow this guilt and move on. But he didn’t know if he was ready to do that just yet.

“But… I just still feel so guilty?” _How do I make it stop hurting?_ He wants to ask. _How do I keep this from eating away at my soul for the rest of time?_

“Good.” Sokka says.

Zuko is taken aback.

“Good?” He asks, confused.

“Yeah, feeling bad means you’re a good person. You’re supposed to feel bad after times like this. You love your uncle, I can see that. Anyone can see that. So it makes sense to feel bad when something bad happens to him, hell, it’s warranted.” He adds, “But you can’t let that stop you from living your life either. It won’t be easy, and I’m sure walking into the shop will be hard for a little while, while the images of the shop from tonight are still fresh in you mind, but… it’ll get easier. I promise, Zuko. It’ll get better and no one is going to hold a grudge on you for this because it’s not your fault.”

“It’s not my fault.” Zuko repeats the words softly on his side of the phone.

“No. It’s not.” Sokka assures him.

_And maybe it wasn’t…_

After a conceivable amount of silence Sokka implores, “Are you sure you’ll be okay tonight?”

“Yeah.. yeah I’ll be fine.” And he means it. “This really helped me sort some things out. Thanks, Sokka.”

“Anytime, man…” He can almost hear Sokka smile through the phone, “Oh! I almost forgot.” He adds.

“What?”

Sokka’s voice reaches a much more playful tone, “You still owe me that picnic we discussed earlier.”

A hot red flush catches on Zuko’s cheeks, “I- uh- yeah, the picnic… Yeah, yes, yeah let’s do it.”

“Cool, meet me outside my place tomorrow at 5 sharp.” Sokka lets out a loud yawn, “But yeah, I’m going to sleep man, I am wrecked. Just, remember what I said, okay?”

“Okay.” Zuko says.

“Sleep tight, Zuko.”

“Goodnight, Sokka.”

And the phone line goes dead.

And Zuko continues to look up at his ceiling, but the world feels much lighter somehow and so he decides to roll over and go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hrmrmrrmnrmmm, will I ever let these boys have a nice moment i dunno find out next week on "I make eyeliner boys fall in love"


	5. resident leader of the lost and found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter!!!! remember when I said updates weekly? well then Texas lost power for like a week so oh well, here we are.... LOL ENJOY

_It starts in small gestures. A gentle touch of the hand. A text sent with a blurry meaning. A passing glance from across a crowded room meant only for him. They all amounted to a feeling that Zuko couldn’t quite shake. Even when he was working at the shop. Even when he was doing school work. The feeling lingered and settled in his ribcage. Except, it wasn’t as heavy as he had originally anticipated. It was light. It was airy. It was a feeling that Zuko could only describe as the perfect shade of light blue._

_If Zuko could stay in this reality forever he would._

* * *

**Sokka**

_Hey! Huge favor!!_

_Do you mind walking Toph home from wrestling practice?? I usually do it on Wednesdays, but I’m caught up with this assignment_

_I’ll meet you at the park afterwards???_

Zuko’s heart skips at the thought of meeting Sokka at Republic Park.

Walking Toph home shouldn’t be too bad. Out of the entire group, he had probably talked to Toph the least, but he had taken a liking to her easily. She was a little shit most of the time to everyone which Zuko found hilarious. This could be fun actually. He had been meaning to hang out with the band members individually at some point anyway…

**Zuko**

_No problem._

_See you soon. :)_

**Sokka**

_You’re a life saver!!! I owe you one big time!_

Zuko smiles down at the text. As small of a favor as he felt it was, he did enjoy the fact that Sokka was so appreciative of it.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and looks around the shop instinctively, as he often does when lost in thought. The tables have been neatly put back in place as if nothing happened. The whole place swept up and polished in preparation for customers in the days before.

It’s unsightly. Zuko finds himself wishing it looked as bad as before. At least then there wouldn’t be so much cognitive dissonance. The clean little shop is nothing like the images he sees when he closes his eyes, nor the images that keep appearing even when he chooses to open them again.

Iroh emerges from the kitchen behind Zuko, “How is that boy, Zuko?” probably noticing how he had been smiling at his phone for the past half hour, “What was his name?”

Zuko fights the urge to let off a biting comment over the old man’s forgetful nature. He’s been trying to be nicer to Iroh after such a hard week, “It’s Sokka, Uncle. And he’s well, thank you for asking.”

Iroh had taken to not talking about the incident of the weekend prior. It was his way. Always had been. Anything to keep his precious Zuko from worrying. He would handle it, he had said. And he always did. He seemed to be doing it now.

Iroh gives him a knowing smile.

Just then Jin runs in, 5 minutes late to her shift. Zuko had been so absorbed in Sokka’s texts and his subsequent thoughts he had completely failed to realize he was working overtime.

She looks at Zuko breathlessly, “OKAY! Tell me everything!!”

Zuko scoffs, “ _That’s_ the first thing you say? Not a ‘sorry for being late, Zuko’? Just a command? Damn, Jin, I thought we were better friends than that?”

“Oh shut up! I told Iroh before I got in that I was gonna be late.” She glances at Iroh who only chuckles from behind the new kitchen curtain. “Anyway…. UPDATES!!!”

“Okay! Okay!” Zuko puts his hands up while laughing. “I’ll tell you, shit.”

It has gotten increasingly easier for him to spill his guts to Jin. The conversations were actually somewhat pleasant now. Filled with good-natured teasing.

He pulls Jin in to whisper, as much as he loves Iroh he didn’t need to hear _all_ the details of his love life, “So, we’re going to have a picnic tonight. It was actually supposed to be a couple nights ago, but I got really busy cleaning up the shop and-”

“A PICNIC??” Jin shrieks, “THAT’S SO ROMANTIC-“

“ _SHH!”_ He brings her in once again, glancing back towards the kitchen hoping Iroh didn’t hear her, “I don’t even know if it’s like that…”

“Zuko.” She stares at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Of _COURSE_ , it’s like that? Don’t be an idiot.” She slaps him in the arm half-mindedly.

“I’m not being an idiot look I-“

Before he can continue to doubt himself, she interrupts him, “What time is this whole thing at anyway?”

“Like 6?” Zuko responds quizzically.

“Zuko!” Jin looks at the clock on the wall in shock, “That’s so soon!? You have to GO! Like NOW. Shoo! Leave! Bye!” She begins pushing him out of the shop by his shoulders hastily.

She was right, if he wanted to walk Toph home and make it all the way to Republic Park, he would have to hurry.

Zuko turns back and waves to Iroh, who is watching from the counter now. Letting off his signature chuckle.

Zuko can’t help but smile back. At the absurdity of the current situation, and at his uncle looking genuinely happy after a the last couple of days where Zuko was sure new wrinkles had settled in his forehead from such prolonged frowns.

When he sets off to collect Toph, the smile doesn’t fade.

* * *

Zuko arrives at Beifong Academy right on time. He see’s Toph leaning up against a pillar.

“Hey Toph.” Zuko smiles.

“Hey, pretty boy.” Toph says cooly.

Zuko nearly begins to start walking when he realizes Toph is holding her arm out.

“Oh!” Zuko exclaims softly.

Right, he had noticed that Toph was usually hanging on to someone as they walked. He clumsily links his arm through hers.

Toph snorts, “Gosh, Zuko are you this awkward around Sokka? No wonder you two idiots haven’t gotten together yet.”

Zuko’s cheeks turn a bright red. Thank goodness Toph couldn’t see him or she would rip into him about it for sure, “What? I- you have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“Is that why your heartbeat just got quicker?” She says, raising an eyebrow in his general direction.

“What- no!” He snaps, eyes darting to his side, “How do you even do that?” 

Toph laughs out loud, “I’m holding on to your arm dumbass, I can literally feel your pulse.”

That… would make sense actually.

“Oh... well, what about those other times when you were just standing next to me backstage?”

“I have ears. I can hear when your breathing hitches and assume the rest, it’s not rocket science.” She waves her hand in the air for emphasis.

Zuko shakes his head. Toph really was a quick witted girl. It’s crazy that she was only 18 and able to do so much. The drummer in a band, a wrestler, cool friends? When Zuko was 18 he was still trying to figure out how to ride a bike. (It was really hard. He soon learned he’d be doomed to walk everywhere for the rest of his life)

“Anyway, how was uhh wrestling practice?” Zuko questions, hoping it doesn’t read as desperate as it feels to continue the conversation.

“Boring.” Toph sighs, “I’m better than everyone there so everyone’s too afraid to challenge me or they feel like shit for getting beat by a blind girl.”

Zuko nudges her with his shoulder, “That’s a lot of confidence for such a tiny girl.”

Toph doesn’t skip a beat, “I’ll have you know I’m the state champion 3 years running.”

Zuko’s eyes grow wide, “Oh wow, that’s actually... really impressive.”

Toph elbows him in the ribs garnering a low _oof_ from Zuko, “Yeah, so don’t test me, pretty boy. I could kick your ass right here if I wanted. They don’t call me the Blind Bandit for nothin’!”

Honestly. That was probably true. Even amidst her small stature, Zuko could tell she was packing a punch. 

He continues racking his brain for things to talk about, “Wait, so… Beifong Academy? Is that the same Beifong as-“

“Yeah, yeah, same as my last name. It was named after my late grandfather.” She immediately sounds annoyed, “Can we just forget about it? I hate talking about that stuff.”

Zuko backpedals, “Oh, I’m sorry, I had no idea- I just-“

Toph groans, “Don’t worry about it. I go through it with everyone I meet.”

Zuko looks over at Toph who is staring blankly in front of her, a frown settling on lips.

He’s made her upset. _fuck._

“I actually get it.” Zuko tries.

“Look, I don’t need your stupid sympathy-“ Toph starts.

Zuko continues before she can shut him down completely, “My father was a diplomat of sorts for all of my life. He’s known far and wide for being a grade-A asshole, but that also means I used to get recognized by my name everywhere back home.”

To Zuko’s relief, Toph’s grip on his arm loosens a bit as her anger seems to subside slightly, “You did seem a little too poised to be a local city kid… Where are you from anyway?”

Zuko grimaces before he even answers, “Ember Island…” he remarks delicately.

“What…” Toph stops walking, deeply shocked at his answer.

“I know…” Zuko shuts his eyes, “don’t remind me-”

“That’s like… royalty status, dude?? You lived there??” Toph starts walking again, but she continues to shake her head in disbelief.

Ember Island, a once beautiful island off the coast of the city and only accessible by ferry. Once home to a magnificent group of nomadic natives. Now a sorry excuse for what it once was. A tourist attraction for the mega-rich, pushed to commercialization by people like his father. Beautiful forests uprooted to make room for resorts only the most privileged could attend. Zuko chest tightens with scorn for the whole place.

“Like I said-“ He says through gritted teeth, “I haven’t stepped foot there since I was a kid-“

Toph stops him, bringing her free hand to his arm, “Yeah, yeah I’m sorry, now I’m doing the same thing I got mad at you for.”

After a few more steps, Toph’s face contorts into something peculiar, “Do you ever miss it?” she asks. She says it quietly, like she half hopes Zuko wouldn’t hear it.

“Miss what?” Zuko furrows his brows, confused.

“Ember Island? I know it sucks and everything, but…” Toph wrings her hands together in front of her, suddenly uncomfortable with the emotional tone the conversation has taken, “Between you and me, I actually went to boarding school for a while back in a Ba Sing Se, even when I was at the peak of hating my parents for being so proper and dismissive, I found myself missing the order and effortlessness of things that comes with having everything handed to you.” Her words come out quicker now, like she’s been waiting to say this to someone for a while, “Like, like I get it, y’know? It’s privileged and it’s shitty, but that’s what I grew up with and sometimes I would find myself yearning for the easy life…”

She shakes her head, snapping herself out of whatever fantasy she had been sucked into, “When I came back, I swore I’d never let my kids grow up that way. I still stand by that, but I dunno.” She tilts her head up in Zuko’s direction, “I guess it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it, you know?”

“Yeah… yeah, I get it, Toph. Sometimes I do miss it.” He didn’t exactly know what. Azula? Not really. And not his father, that’s for sure. But the ease with which life seemed to move wherever he went on the island? The unearned notoriety from simply brandishing a notable last name? He could relate to thinking back on those things with regrettable fondness. Like Toph said, it sucked, but it was true.

He hadn’t thought of home in such a long time. He almost forgot what its name felt like on his tongue.

After a little more walking Toph pipes up, changing the subject completely, “So Sokka, huh?”

Zuko tries his best to play it cool, “What about him?”

“Oh, please! Don’t play dumb. What’s going on with you two? We’re all dying to know.”

“All?” Zuko chirps, not hiding the frightened tone of his voice well.

“The rest of the band? Come on, we’ve tried to put you guys in every conceivable situation for something to happen. Why hasn’t it happened??”

Zuko rubs the back of his neck, “I- I don’t know? I just- I don’t think he likes me that way...”

Zuko trails off and Toph starts cackling uncontrollably, “Pfft! Oh please, you absolutely crack me up! Good thing everyone says you’re pretty, cause holy shit, is there not a brain in that little head of yours if you actually think Sokka doesn’t have a total crush on you.”

It was normal for Toph to press people’s buttons, there’s no way she wasn’t joking?

“You don’t mean that.” _but please say you do._

“I do. And so does the rest of the band.”

Zuko’s jaw releases from where it had tensed in anticipation for Toph to tell him this was all some big practical joke.

“Well,” Zuko is still not used to telling these things to people, but with Jin constantly pestering him about it he’s gotten the slightest bit more comfortable divulging information on his personal life, “I am hanging out with him tonight…”

“TONIGHT? Oh that’s rich. I can’t wait to tell the rest of the band.”

“NO.” Zuko grips her arm tighter, “You can’t tell the rest of the band!”

Toph makes her voice higher to irritate him, “Why? Afraid your wittle cwush will get back to Sokka? I hope it does, it’ll probably speed up the process.”

“Toph!” Zuko pleads.

Having gotten enough amusement out of Zuko’s misery, Toph decides to tone it down, “Fine, fine. I won’t tell anyone. God, you’re such a drama queen.”

Zuko laughs sheepishly, maybe she was right, but he would actually probably spontaneously combust if he had to confront Sokka about his crush right now. Luckily, this conversation was over as they were just starting to approach her home.

As they stop in front of the gate, Zuko ruffles Toph’s hair in both gratitude and in an attempt to annoy her. Before she can physically retaliate Zuko glances at his phone. 5:45. Shit.

He quickly punches in the gate code and holds it open for her.

“Alright, Toph. I’ve gotta run, but thanks for the conversations.” He looks fondly at her.

Toph doesn’t even turn towards him, just walks past him on the recently swept cobblestone path, “No problem, pretty boy…” She stops before she’s too far out of ear shot, “Tell Sokka I say hello if you’re not too busy with your tongue down his throat.”

Zuko’s face goes warm with embarrassment.

 _Not that it wouldn’t be nice…_ he starts to think.

He shakes the thought away, fast. “Bye, Toph.” Is what he manages to choke out before he heads out.

Zuko still hears her laugh even after the gate closes the gap between them.

* * *

When he gets to Republic Park he’s 5 minutes late.

He looks for the place that Sokka described. To the left of the big lake under the biggest Oak tree.

A familiar voice rings to his left, “Zuko! Over here, buddy!”

Zuko smiles and holds his hand up to wave.

When he gets closer Sokka’s smiling too, “I was starting to think you stood me up?”

“I would never.” Zuko says a little to quickly, immediately kicking himself for sounding so forward. He lets out an awkward cough, “Uhh thanks for setting all this up? This is super nice.”

“I spared no expense.” Sokka croons.

And he didn’t. The blanket spread on the floor contained a multitude of foods. Zuko doesn’t even know what some of them are as he sits across from Sokka.

Sokka rubs his hands together, “Okay, no offense, but I’m _starving_. Let me just give you a quick rundown of what we’ve got here…”

He points to a basket of colorful pastries, “This is sweet bread from my favorite Mexican bakery uptown.” He moves on to a covered basket, “This is full of pork dumplings from a mom and pop restaurant downtown.” Sokka opens the lid and the scent that comes from it is enough to make Zuko’s mouth water. Sokka takes a big whiff, and sighs, “Ahh, just like gran gran used to make.”

“Finally,” Sokka says pointing to yet another covered container, “We have the best part..”

He rips the towel set atop the container to unveil… jerky?

“Ta-da!!” Sokka shouts.

Did he miss something? What’s so special about jerky?

“What is it?” Zuko asks.

Sokka’s eyes widen as he slaps his hand on his forehead, “Are you kidding me?? It’s seal jerky!! A delicacy from where my family’s from! My mom used to have our dad bring some home every time he took a trip back East.”

“Wow, how… sentimental?” he offers. He wants it to sound genuine and sweet, but it reads more stiff and awkward than he had hoped.

Sokka doesn’t seem to notice or mind, “I specially ordered them about a week ago for myself since I was missing home a little bit, but I thought what a perfect opportunity to share something I loved with someone else?”

Zuko grins softly. What a nice gesture? How is Sokka so nice? So- so selfless? If he thinks about too hard in this moment, he swears he might end up kissing him.

Sokka passes a pair of metal chopsticks to Zuko. As soon as he grabs them, Sokka’s begins putting dumplings and pieces of bread on his own plate. Zuko does the same, careful not too take too much, as these all seem like Sokka’s favorite… and by the way he’s piling food on his plate, he seems ravenous.

They spend the next half hour munching on their picnic foods and talking about whatever comes to mind. Zuko comments on how the seal jerky is unlike anything he’s ever tasted. It wasn’t too gamey, it was seasoned to perfection. No wonder Sokka loves it so much. Sokka just smiles, jerky stuck between his two front teeth, causing Zuko to laugh hysterically.

When they’ve finished eating, Sokka folds up his hoodie neatly and brings it to the edge of the picnic blanket. He lays down using it as a makeshift pillow.

“Well, I’m stuffed!” He says, arms thrown lazily across his stomach.

Zuko watches as Sokka takes in the darkening sky. In the orange light Sokka looks breathtaking. The glint of his dark hair catching the rays of sun in all the right ways. Zuko could sit there and watch him all day.

“You ever look at the clouds and notice how fast they’re moving on any given day?” Sokka suddenly asks, lost in the scene above them.

Zuko shakes his head, puzzled by the question, “No, Sokka. I can’t say that I do.”

Sokka laughs, the breeze bringing strands of flyaway hairs to tickle his nose. As he pushes them aside he silently slips into a memory, “When I was a kid I used to look up at the sky to check how fast the clouds were moving that day…”

Zuko leans back on his elbows. What on earth was he talking about?

“Then I’d choose how my day would go based on the clouds. For instance,” He shoots his pointer finger up like an academic, “If the clouds were moving fast, I’d do everything that day as hard and fast as I could. On my way to school in the mornings I would rip past Katara and leave her in my dust even when she’d whine that I was going too fast.” He smiles and shakes his head at sudden flood of memories that have come to play out in his mind, “Then, on the days when the clouds moved much more slowly, I’d have a chill day. Even letting Katara take the lead on our way to school. Ha, she loved that.”

Zuko humors him, “What if there were no clouds in sight?”

Sokka narrows his eyes in a playful way, “Then I got to choose what kind of day I wanted. A free for all.” Sokka sighs, reflecting on something just out of reach, “Somedays I still find myself looking up to the sky to give me answers on how I should spend the days that feel especially confusing.”

Zuko blinks at Sokka.

As he lies there, soaking up what’s left of the sun, Zuko takes a second to look at him, like _really_ , look at him. There’s something about the way staring at someone can make you realize that people only ever take passing glances at each other. Even with those he sees everyday, like Uncle Iroh, when Zuko takes a moment to truly consider his features, he always notices a new detail he swears wasn’t there before. For this reason, while looking at Sokka through glints of orange and red, he attempts to take note of everything. The scars from shaving the underside of his chin. Every pointed angle of his jaw. Of course the ever obvious deep blue of his eyes. Zuko doesn’t want to forget a single thing. He doesn’t want to just passively look at Sokka ever again.

In one swift motion Sokka turns onto his side and rest his chin in his hand. He looks up at Zuko.

Zuko’s still looking at him, head cocked, strange look on his face.

“What’s up, Zu? What’re you thinkin about?” Sokka asks, not breaking the shared gaze.

Zuko shakes his head as if taking himself out of a trance. “I was…” _thinking about you._

He pauses, then says, “thinking about clouds, Sokka.”

He slowly brings himself to lay on his back. Letting a comfortable silence wash over the both of them.

Zuko can feel Sokka staring him down. Working out an invisible problem in his head that Zuko can only wish he knew. After a while he nods slowly, that same strange look on his face, leaving Zuko to wonder if he too feels that insufferable weight of wanting to know someone in every conceivable way.

Before he lays back down Sokka says, so quietly that Zuko almost swears he dreamt it, “Yeah… me too.”

* * *

Later, when Zuko falls asleep, it’s that phrase that reverberates in his subconscious and sings him to sleep.

* * *

The next day at the shop, Zuko is glad to be done with his shift. The images from nights ago still make his chest tight whenever he walks in, and whenever he sees Iroh’s face, and well, whenever anything actually.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the ruminating thoughts.

 _It’s not your fault,_ he reminds himself. In his mind, Sokka says it. It’s more believable that way.

He shoves the shop key deep into his pocket and begins his trek towards Sokka and Katara’s place for a hang out, moving into autopilot to lose himself in his thoughts.

He doesn’t even notice when he passes by someone leaning against the wall of an adjacent building.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the boy that replaced me?” Behind him, against all odds, is an infamously familiar face.

“Jet?” Zuko is mildly startled.

_What the fuck is this guy doing here?_

“Fancy meeting you here?” Zuko’s face drops into something of an involuntary scowl as his eyes adjust in the darkness to settle on Jet.

Jet lets off a cruel laugh, “The pleasures all mine, dipshit.” 

“What do you want, Jet. I don’t have time for this.” He attempts to sidestep past him, but Jet mirrors him blocking his way. Zuko is getting increasingly frustrated.

“Why are you in such a hurry? Don’t got time for your old pal, Jet?” Jet’s picture perfect smile sits still on his face. “Besides…” He cocks an eyebrow, “my friend’s tells me you have eyes for Sokka.”

Zuko freezes.

_What?_

Seeing that he has Zuko’s full attention, Jet’s smile morphs into an unmistakable smirk, “Well I’d be careful with him if I were you...”

Zuko laughs out loud, “You have approximately one second to shut the fuck up, Jet.” His fists clench tight at his sides. He was _not_ bringing Sokka into this, no way.

“I’m just saying. He’s a pretty suave guy. I mean, I’d hate for you to get swept up in his charming act.” Jet steps back and begins pacing around Zuko. His theatrical nature coming out in full.

Zuko opens his mouth to yell at him some more, but Jet quickly cuts him off, “Has he already shown you the songs he writes?” He inquires, with a wave of his hand, as if discussing something he knows well, “Did he write one that’s almost vague enough to have it feel like it could be about you? Better yet, did he have you help him write it?” Jet looks up at Zuko through the hairs of his bangs.

_There’s no way… How did he…?_

“You shut your damn mouth, Jet before I shut it for you.” Zuko can’t even feel the chill under his jacket anymore. The rage steadily building within him is enough to keep him from getting cold.

“No need to get hostile, Zuko. It is Zuko right?” He steals a faux concerned look in Zuko’s direction, “Anyway, it’s all a routine, bud. He does it to everyone. Boys and girls alike. And when he’s done with you he’ll move on to the next victim. Lures ‘em in with his blue eyes and then tosses them aside when he’s done with them.” Jet winks at him, to Zuko’s disgust. Crazy how that gesture can have such a different feeling when it comes from someone other than Sokka.

“It’s only a matter of time before he dumps you too.” He snarls.

Zuko’s body is radiating with resentment. It takes all the self-control he can muster to say just above whisper, “You don’t know a fucking thing. You’re just a sad, pathetic excuse of a person who wishes he could go back and be a part of something as good as the elements. But you fucked up, Jet. When are you gonna accept that the band didn’t lose out, you did.”

Jet just looks at him, he turns around obviously pleased with the information he divulged to Zuko, “When Sokka breaks your heart, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

This was absolutely pointless. _Jeez, get a life,_ Zuko thinks.

“Fuck you!” Zuko yells to his back.

Jet laughs, “No thanks. I’m taken.” And he walks away.

* * *

Zuko stands outside of Sokka and Katara’s apartment. He hesitates before knocking on the door.

He was still shaken up from the confrontation with Jet. Seriously, what the _fuck_ was that about? He sighs. He’ll talk about it later with Sokka, for now he should at least try to enjoy the night.

He swiftly brings out his phone to check his hair. It was… just like it always looked. Why was he so nervous?

His answer comes in the form of Sokka throwing open the door, surprising both of them.

“Oh? Zuko, hi?” Sokka chuckles.

“Uh hey, I was just… about to knock!” Zuko exclaims quickly.

“Yeah, of course. Anyway, I’m gonna go pick up some ice from around the corner, but make yourself at home. Everyone’s hanging out in the living room.” Sokka points back behind him.

“Thanks.”

Sokka sidesteps by Zuko placing his hand on the small of his back to move past him. The heat from this gesture lingers as Zuko walks into the apartment.

The rest of the band is already sitting in various positions on the floor and couch, not unlike that first night he was invited over.

“ZUKO!” Aang yells throwing his arms up in excitement, “So glad you could make it!”

“Thanks, Aang.” Zuko says matter of factly.

He finds a spot on the floor next to Suki who is absorbed in texting someone on her phone.

She doesn’t even notice when Zuko takes a seat next to her. “Umm, Earth to Suki?” Zuko nudges her in the shoulder playfully.

“Oh! Zuko!” she says shocked. “When did you walk in?”

Katara laughs from across the room, “If you weren’t so busy texting your little girlfriend, maybe you’d have noticed.”

Suki scoffs, “I wasn’t even-“ She drops her shoulders, “Okay, I was, but- but- it’s not like you’re not all over Aang right now either.” She gives Katara a lighthearted sideways glance.

Katara looks down at her legs intertwined with Aang’s. “Touché.”

“Girlfriend?” Zuko pipes up. He didn’t know Suki was seeing someone? Although that would explain all the times she seemed to be paying more attention to her texts than the rest of the band.

Suki looks up excitedly, like she’s been dying to talk about her ever since he realized he was there, “Her name’s Yue! She’s the best.”

Before she can eagerly continue, Toph points her finger to her mouth, “ _Eugh!”_

Suki eyes her in annoyance, “ _Toph_ , don’t start.”

Zuko pipes up, lost, “Wait, who’s Yue?”

“Sokka’s sloppy seconds.” Toph fake coughs into her sleeve.

Katara darts a sharp look at Toph, “TOPH!”

“What? I’m not wrong am I?” She says tossing her hands in the air.

Katara huffs and squeezes her eyes shut while pinching the bridge of her nose, “Sorry Zuko, she was a part of the band for a while. Then she had to transfer school’s because of her family and…” She rolls her eyes in Toph’s direction, “Yeah, she did date Sokka for a little bit, but they broke up because of the distance.”

“So how did you and-“ Zuko turns to Suki.

“We stayed in touch, and one thing sort of lead to another…” Suki trails off.

“And now we still sing the songs they wrote together.” Toph throws into the conversation spitefully to everyone’s surprise.

Zuko tenses.

_Songs they wrote together? Sokka’s ex-girlfriend? There’s no way Jet was actually telling the truth… right?_

“What do you have against Yue?” Zuko directs at Toph, desperate to connect these dots.

Toph answers while using her pinky nail to get something out of her teeth, “She’s a little too proper for my taste.”

“It’s not her fault she comes from a prominent family up North.” Suki says defensively crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Oh please! I come from a prominent family, you don’t see me acting all uppity!” her voice gets increasingly overexaggerated as she continues, “For fuck’s sake, Zuko’s from Ember Island and he still acts like a normal person!” As soon as the sentence is out of her mouth Toph immediately slaps her hand over it.

The entire band looks up in unison, “ _EMBER ISLAND?”_

Zuko goes bright red. Not able to match the lingering stares of shock from the entire group.

“Why the _fuck_ would you guys bring up Ember Island right now?” Sokka asks nonchalantly, suddenly appearing through the front door and dropping a bag of Ice into a blue cooler at his feet.

Everyone in the group shoots Sokka sharp look.

“Geez, what did I miss?”

Katara shakes her head, ignoring Sokka’s obliviousness, “Zuko… are you really…?”

He has to be honest, these are his friends.

“Yes.” Zuko says slowly.

Suddenly the entire band is dead silent.

Aang breaks it, speaking barely above a whisper, “What brought you to the city, Zuko?” There’s something in his voice. A level of disdain Zuko can’t quite place. For someone who is usually chipper, the tone creates an eeriness about the room that is unmistakable.

Suddenly Zuko’s mouth has gone dry and he struggles to begin answering his question, “Well, my life back home wasn’t the best. I uhh, regularly got in fights with my father. Not pretty. But uhh, he’s a very prominent man where I’m from. So after some…” _How can he put this lightly?_ “unfortunate events, that was kind of my breaking point. I just, up and came to the city with my uncle.”

Katara gasps, the stars aligning in her thoughts, “Your father isn’t…”

Zuko winces, he swallows at whatever has caught in his throat, “Ozai…” The name tumbles out of his mouth and unto the floor helplessly.

Aang stands up, pacing the room. He stops only for a second to shoot a menacing glare at Zuko.

Zuko watches in horror as Aang decides what he’s about to say.

“You know what Ozai’s done to my friends and family?” He asks with conviction in his voice.

“Aang…” Katara reaches for his arm.

He pulls away as if her touch burns his skin, “No, Katara! Let him answer the question.”

Zuko lets his head fall towards his chest. He was used to answering for his father’s indiscretions back home, but here in the city it seemed out of place. He was supposed to have left this all behind. How did a history he never asked for manage to follow him miles across the waters?

“I don’t stand by the things my father has done-” he begins, a scipt he had begun to follow when he got old enough to realize what a monster his father truly was.

“Oh, I get it.” Aang laughs spitefully, “You just ran away, huh? You just ran away and let him continue to wreak havoc on the people I loved?” He’s shaking his head, as if he can’t believe the audacity that Zuko has to be sharing the same space as the band.

“Aang I-“ Zuko tries to reason with him, but he’s cut off before any of the words can come out.

“My family was kicked off their homeland because of a bill your father wrote! My entire people were displaced because of _YOU.”_

The words sting. Of course, Aang’s family were a part of the nomadic group native to the island. Of course they were affected by the bill his father wrote years ago giving the island permission to pave over their sacred home for commercialization. Of course, of fucking course.

_This shit just doesn’t end…._

Zuko doesn’t miss a beat, every word fueled by the desperate hope his explanation is worthy, “I was 12 at the time that law was passed, Aang. I had no part in any of my father’s transgressions because I was a _child_.”

At least, that’s what Iroh always told him. Later, when he would stay up into the early hours of the morning in a pool of sweat, tossing about with images of the people his father had done wrong dancing in his head, he would lay a hand on his forehead and whisper, _“You are not your father, Zuko. You will never end up like him.”_ But behind his back, was he not already? All of this scrutiny from Aang, from citizens back home. He deserved it. He deserved it for being the coward he was.

He continues on, the weight of guilt filling his chest, “I’m a terrible person, I know, for leaving everything behind when I have a duty to stand up to my father and his terrible politics. But I was a kid back then, I just- I didn’t have the strength to go back after…” Zuko grits his teeth at the thought of the night of his 14th birthday. His left eye twitching in remembered pain.

He shakes his head, willing the thought from his mind and continues with whatever strength he has left, “Aang, I’m sorry that my father has caused such turmoil in your life. I have spent everyday of mine thinking of how I can iron that out. I swear.”

Aang won’t even meet his eye. The rest of the band follows suit, all except for Sokka, who seems to be working something out in his head. He tilts his face towards Zuko, “Zuko…” he begins, “what did you mean by unfortunate events earlier?”

Zuko doesn’t answer. Just unconsciously moves to scratch at the skin around his scar.

Sokka’s eyes widen slowly, the subtle movement confirming his suspicions, “You’re not telling me...”

Zuko hears the words coming out of his mouth before he even knows he’s said them, “It didn’t hurt that bad. I couldn’t feel it after the initial sting.”

A collective gasp washes over the room.

Zuko feels sick to his stomach, in disbelief the sentence was uttered at all. After all these years, he still wasn’t done defending his monster of a dad, even after all he did to him.

“Your dad- he- did that to you?” Sokka looks horrified, he asks the question as if he’s afraid to know the answer.

“Yeah, but-“ Zuko starts, ready to downplay the entire situation yet again.

“I’ll kill him.” Sokka clenches his fists at his sides.

“Me too.” Toph and Suki bark from across the room.

Quietly, but still with assertiveness Aang adds in, “Yeah, FUCK that guy.” and for some reason, that sentence alone sends a wave of relief through Zuko’s body. It seemed Aang was starting to realize they were more united against Zuko’s father than he originally thought.

“How did he not get into trouble after that?” Katara asks, the motherly nature of her voice shining through.

“Like I said, he’s a pretty prominent guy. The best course of action was to send me away, hide the evidence if you will… so my father went to my uncle and well, the rest is history.”

“What about your sister?” Sokka questions.

“Like I said, we don’t talk anymore.” Zuko adds dryly.

“And you let her live with that piece of shit?” Katara exclaims.

He doesn’t even flinch, “Let’s just say she was a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh.” Katara breathes.

“Yeah...” he replies. Because honestly… what else is there to even say?

“I’m so sorry, Zuko. That sounds like a lot to go through.” Katara moves forward to rest a hand on Zuko’s knee.

“No worries. That’s just life right?” Zuko shrugs his shoulders.

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Sokka mutters, locking eyes with Zuko only for a second before he goes back to thinking.

Zuko attempts to lighten the mood with something Iroh had once said to him, “You learn to play the cards you’re handed, I suppose.” Now that he was older he could appreciate the old man’s many, many proverbs.

“Well, whatever planets had to align, we’re glad you ended up here. You’re a good guy, Zuko.” Aang sighs, “I’m sorry I blew up at you. Those wounds are still fresh and I’ve worked my entire life to try and get my family their home back, so it’s an issue pretty near and dear to my heart… I know you had nothing to do with it now. I hope you can forgive me?” He looks up, a hopeful look in his eye.

Zuko’s jaw drops in utter shock for Aang’s ability to be such a good person, “Forgive _you_? I hope you can forgive me for-“

“For being related to someone?” Toph scoffs, “Oh come on, no one asks for that.”

“Exactly, Zuko. If you denounce what your father has done now, that’s what matters. I would never ask someone to revisit the root of their trauma until they were ready. And when you are, I’ll be right there with you.” Aang gives him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder to which Zuko replies with a smile.

Zuko looks around the room at the unconventional group of friends, so different, but all somehow still here.

“You know, I never really had a group of friends like you guys.” Zuko admits, face tinting pink as he says it.

He looks up and can’t help, but feel his heart swell up at the looks of admiration he’s receiving from them all.

Katara can’t help it, “Oh, come here, Zuko!” she yells and begins to walk towards him, arms wide open.

“Um! I’m not much of a-“

Before he can finish the rest of that sentence the entire band moves to tackle Zuko in a surprise attack hug anyway.

Sokka is the last to join and reaches over the rest of the bodies to ruffle Zuko’s hair playfully. Zuko scrunches his nose in response.

The room fills with laughter as the infectious nature of giggles of one member spreads to the others. Once they’ve calmed down and sit back, Zuko finds himself struggling to catch his breath from laughing so hard.

“You know… it’s a little too perfect that you found us at such a good time.” Sokka says quietly, eyes glued to the far side of the room, “We’re all really using this year as a kinda… last hoorah for the band.”

Zuko’s heart falls in his chest leaving a surprising twinge of sadness in his rib cage, “Wait, what?”

Sokka eyes him guiltily, like he knows this was a conversation that would inevitably come up, “Well, after next year Suki and I are graduating. I’m probably going to grad school. Aang’s studying abroad to help come up with solutions for his home situation. Katara is starting her water conservation internship and Toph’s getting recruited by some of the best schools in the country for her wrestling. It’s just... it’s not possible. We’ve all got divergent paths.”

 _Except me_ , he thinks, _I’ll be here. Stuck. Left behind, like always._

Zuko should’ve known. There was no way this was going to last forever.

“I see.” Zuko tries his best to not sound like the hurt little kid he feels like.

“What are your plans, Zuko?” Suki asks in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

What were his plans?

“Well,” he offers “I’m hoping to transfer to the university by next Fall. Finish up my senior year there and then…” _it’s blank,_ “Who knows?”

“That’s awesome, Zuko!” Suki smiles.

“Thanks.” Zuko says, but it’s half-hearted. The thought of this reality being temporary now weighing on him like being fully clothed in a deep pool.

Thankfully, the night goes on with more giggles and stories and no more disaster conversations.

 _I can stand to pretend for a little longer_ , Zuko thinks throughout the night, _I can let myself enjoy this until whatever divine force rips this from my hands itself._

Finally, when everyone begins to leave and Sokka offers to walk him home, Zuko declines. Choosing instead to put his headphones in and wonder what a life without Sokka and the band might look like.

* * *

At home, Zuko opens the front door, surprised to find Iroh sitting at the kitchen table.

“Uncle.” He sends an acknowledging nod in his direction, continuing on to his room.

“Your sister called.” Iroh remarks, taking a swift sip of his tea.

Zuko stops in his tracks. He must’ve heard him wrong?

“ _What_ …”

Iroh continues on unphased, “Your sister called… Azula? Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten-“

“I _know_ who she is, Uncle.” Zuko mutters, “Why did she call? More importantly why does it concern me?” The last part is said with a bitterness Zuko has reserved exclusively for his nuclear family.

“Just checking in, Zuko.” Iroh says, and he looks sad after he’s said it, “I told her about your big show coming up.”

“You _what_?”

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no._

“I hope that wasn’t a problem, nephew-” Iroh looks at him quizzically.

“ _Of COURSE_ it’s a problem, Uncle? It’s AZULA.”

He had already spent an entire night attempting to remedy the damage his family had caused to his friends, he can’t have someone like Azula threatening that.

Iroh’s voice grows with worry, “Zuko, please try to calm down. It’s been years since-“

Zuko brings his arms to either side of the table, making intense eye contact with Iroh across the way, his voice a low whisper when he asks, “Uncle, why would you do that?”

“Zuko, I’m not saying you should be lifelong friends, but she does sincerely care about what you’re doing these days.” Iroh meets his intensity with a look so full of concern that Zuko almost considers believing him.

“Oh, I’m so sure.” He retorts sarcastically.

 _Azula always lies_.

“Well, she’s coming to your show.” Iroh tells him with another swift sip of his tea.

“UNCLE! You have to call her back, you have to tell her it’s a mistake-“ Zuko’s shouting uncontrollably now, his voice trembling as he pronounces the words.

He already has a limited amount of time with the band as he’s just found out, she can’t ruin that! He can’t _DO THIS_ right now.

“Why? Why is it a mistake, Zuko? Do you think that running away from your past forever is going to help you?”

“ _YOU_ took me away from past because it hurt me, Uncle. Does me brandishing this mark of shame mean nothing to you?” He doesn’t have to point to his scar for Iroh to understand what he means.

“Of course it means something, Zuko.” Iroh puts down his teacup and moves towards Zuko slowly, “What I’m saying is you have to help yourself move forward, and there are people who are willing to help you with that. Azula being one of them.”

None of this made sense. Azula and Iroh conspiring together? After all these years of him agreeing that it was fine if he never saw his family again? Why had he done all this? Why was he digging up parts of his life meant to be buried? Why did he want Zuko to hurt so badly?

And on top of it all, he was still wondering whether Jet had some truth to his stupid fucking monologue…

“ _GAH!”_ Zuko slams his fist on the table spilling the cup of tea his Uncle had made, the thoughts causing waves of pain to cascade through his body too much for him, “I’m _DONE_ talking about this!”

He begins making long strides up the stairs, “Tell Azula to do whatever the FUCK she wants!”

He stops before he enters his room completely, “I don’t even know who’s side you’re on anymore.” Zuko shoots back before he slams his door completely.

Iroh just stands there, relishing in the scent of jasmine that’s perfumed the room, but mostly heartbroken to wonder who convinced Zuko that life was a war that warranted picking sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changed my tumblr @! It's @suki-dude now so if you want updates or wanna yell about ATLA together we should do that! As always thanks for reading <3


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